


The Truth About Love

by princesskay



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Breaking Up & Making Up, Drama, Facials, Falling In Love, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Spanking, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 14:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1651973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesskay/pseuds/princesskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something Tom hasn't been admitting to Bill, or to himself, for years, but now that he and Ria have broken up, he can't hide the truth any longer . . . The truth can be scary, but ultimately, it can set you free . . . you just have to trust it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfect (That's Why I Hate You)

It may have been inevitable all along, but to Tom, it was the worst kind of betrayal. It was as if a sheen of beauty and silk had been pulled over his eyes, creating the illusion of happiness that he had never worked so hard for until now. Then, after such a sweet, short time of flowery love and the hope of something more, that curtain had been ripped from his eyes.

The world was in black and white again, just as he had perceived it before the idea of true love and happiness infected his brain.

As a teen, he had lived to party, going from one club scene to the next, picking up each and every pretty girl that threw herself at him. They had all been his for the night for just one, seemingly small price – that he feel nothing, not care or even a hint of remorse when they left his bed disheveled and pleased the next morning. It had been so gratifying for a time, but after a little while, his escapades grew tiresome. Perhaps, he thought, Bill is right. Maybe there is such a thing as true love.

Having bought into his little brother's rather silly, skewed perception of the world, he fell for love at first sight just as a little child does watching a princess movie. There's the cookie-cutter figures – a knight in shining armor, and the maiden in distress.

Tom thought he saw that in Ria. He really thought he could save her. And maybe it had worked for a little while, but the time for fairy tales was over . . . and so it seemed, was his relationship.

The ideals he had come to so tenuously trust had snapped under the weight of his growing belief and faith, sending him flailing into darkness, no net to catch him down below. He was coming down hard, moving recklessly through each progressing day, not really sure which direction he was headed.

All he knew was the last place he wanted to be was right where he was at.

Tom had come to have a rather hateful, yet mockingly one-sided relationship with interviews. As a youth, he had used interviews to stroke his ego with effortless comments about his guitar-playing, his body, his sex drive. It was a hormone driven behavior, one he was long since over. He was twenty-five years old now, and those sorts of remarks seemed empty and humorless to his ears.

They were here to talk about the new album, not Ria. His fucking ex-girlfriend.

But the interviewer seemed intent upon grilling him for answers.

“Will she go on tour with you? If not, how will you two cope with the separation? Any talk of children? If you have kids, will that break up Tokio Hotel?”

Tom wanted to scream, “For the hundredth time, NO!” None of those things would ever happen because Ria was no longer the integral part of his life that she had once been. She was gone, and with her, his happiness. The light had gone out in his world; he had no patience to deal with these painfully personal questions.

He hadn't even told the most important person in his life that Ria was gone; how could he tell a complete stranger? It hit him with stunning clarity, how uncontrollable his emotions really were. He hadn't told Bill. It had been two weeks since Ria had dropped the bomb, and he hadn't even opened up to Bill. Maybe because it hurt too much. Maybe because his break up with Ria was partly Bill's fault – though unintentionally because he had no idea what Tom had been hiding from Ria. Maybe because Tom just couldn't face the secret he had held clutched in a death grip for years.

Finally, Bill ran his idea of damage control, though his little brother was groping blindly through the darkness. Bill had no idea what it was like to be in love, not really. Oh, he believed all those stupid, fake fairy tails and the facade of true love he so treasured, but he was absolutely brainless when it came to relationships. Single since childhood, alone forever; some fangirls thought the tragic nature of his brother's nonexistent sex life was attractive. Tom thought it was plain ridiculous.

Bill was going on and on about finding that one girl, and Tom almost couldn't handle it.

Inside, his heart was breaking over the sudden, cold loss of the girl he had thought he loved, and Bill was sitting there making a relationship sound like some sort of divine intervention; when it happens, it will be lovely and perfect and nothing could go wrong. What a bunch of bullshit.

If Tom hadn't been bound to stay in his seat by management and their record company, he would've gotten up and left the room. Instead, he kept his head down and did his best to answer the fewest possible questions he could. The interviewer got the hint and didn't ask anymore questions about Ria.

By the time the interview was over, Tom was strung tight, and spoiling for an argument. He was ready to bash Bill's face in, even if he was only partially mad at Bill. But he wanted to redirect his anger any way he could, and taking it out on his little brother, who always bounced back no matter what, seemed like a good idea.

The four men of Tokio Hotel climbed back into the company van that would escort them to the hotel. They were in Oberhausen, ready to kick off the first few performances with the new songs. Tom should have been feeling the pre-tour jitters, but all he could focus on was his recent break-up . . . and quite possibly beating Bill's ass. . . Beating it raw for being so fucking beautiful and perfect. For being the untold reason that Ria was gone . . . For being fucking naïve to the way he was driving Tom mad.

Tom hunched down in his seat and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. He bounced his knee to release some of the pent-up energy. Everyone in the van could feel the bad vibes roiling off of him, but Bill was the only one brave enough – or stupid enough – to speak up.

“Tom.” He murmured, laying a soft hand on Tom's knee, “Are you okay?”

Tom snapped his angry glare to Bill, “I'm fine. What's wrong with _you_?”

Bill drew his hand back, his soft brown eyes flashing with hurt, “Sorry.”

Tom looked away and breathed steadily through his nostrils. He could feel the anger swelling in his chest like a balloon, sucking all the proper air from his lungs and making it difficult to breathe. His throat ached with unreleased emotion, but he refused to show any hint of pain. No one knew. Not yet.

Moments ticked by in silence. The only sound was the tires running over the pavement and the occasional rustle of clothing as someone shifted uncomfortably.

Bill drew in a deep breath, straightened his shirt and ran his palms over his thighs. He glanced nervously over at his stewing brother and seemed to be plucking up the courage to say something more.

Tom swung his gaze over just as Bill opened his mouth to speak, “Don't.” He ordered, sharply, “Don't say anything.”

“What is wrong with you?” Bill snapped, a flush growing fast on his cheeks.

“Back off.” Tom grumbled, “It's none of your business.”

“Your business is my business, and if this is going to affect the performance tomorrow-”

“Don't even talk to me about performing.” Tom exploded, sitting upright in his seat, “You don't even know what's going on!”

“Then why don't you tell me?” Bill replied, crossing his arms over his chest, “Since it's obviously so important.”

“It is important.” Tom growled, “It's more important than your stupid little performance.”

“ _My_ stupid little performance?” Bill echoed in disbelief, “This is the band, Tom. It's all of our performance.” 

Tom sat back against his seat, breathing in and out harshly. He could feel the emotions escalating inside his chest. His sinuses throbbed as the pain threatened to release itself in the form of tears. He pressed his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose to hold it back and reminded himself of the humiliation he would endure later on if he cried in front of a van full of other men.

“Tom,” This time, Bill's voice was dismayed, “What is wrong?”

Tom smacked Bill's hand away as it crept through the space between them to rest gently on his shoulder.

“Get the fuck off.” He mumbled, trying to mask the weak tenor of his voice.

Silence descended over the van. Tom could feel eyes on him. Georg and Gustav sat in front of them, but he could sense their eyes glancing over their shoulders to assess the distraught state of their lead guitarist. They were used to the twins arguing, but they definitely weren't accustomed to watching Tom break down.

At last, the van pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. The security got out first, checked to make sure the street was clear, and then pulled the side door open. They all filed out, mute and heads down. No one asked questions again until they were inside the hotel, out of the elevator and into the hallway outside of their rooms.

“Tom, I think we need to talk.” Bill murmured from beside him.

“No we don't.” Tom replied, keeping his voice down, “I'm fine. Just stressed, okay?”

Bill shook his head, his brows knitting in concern, “You think you can lie to me?”

“I don't want to talk to you about this.” Tom insisted, his tone strained, “Can you please just leave it alone?”

“No.” Bill's foot gave a little, irritated stomp, “We talk about everything, Tom. You can talk to me about anything.”

“Not this, okay.” Tom shook his head, impatiently, “You wouldn't understand.”

“Fuck it, Tom, I am not dealing with you being like this all week, or for however long you choose to stay upset about it.” Bill replied, his voice growing louder in the relative quiet of the hallway, “Now, please, come to my room with me.”

“No!” Tom shouted, his hand shooting out instinctively to slam into Bill's chest when his brother reached for him.

Bill stumbled back, his hand flying up to cover the throbbing center of his chest where Tom's hand had struck. His eyes were wide, growing darker, and his cheeks were colored an unattractive shade of red.

Everyone in the hallway turned to stare at them.

“Everything okay, boys?” Saki asked, stepping over with an upraised hand. His gaze bounced between the quarreling brothers, assessing the damage. He had seen enough fights to know which ones were serious and required intervention.

“I just want to be left alone.” Tom shouted, passing his gaze over the whole group to include them all, not just Bill, “Can everyone do that for like two seconds?”

Most of them backed off, but Bill was far more resilient.

“Tom, come on.” He said, firmly, grabbing Tom by the arm to lead him into his hotel room.

“Get the fuck off.” Tom repeated, wrenching his arm out of Bill's grasp.

“Tom?” Saki's voice was half-worried, half-warning.

Tom sent him a scathing glare.

“It's okay, Saki.” Bill said, diplomatically, “This is something the two of us need to work out. Can we be alone?”

“Okay.” Saki backed up, holding up his hands, “Just don't break too much furniture.”

It wasn't a joke, and Tom hardly cared. He would break as many tables and chairs over Bill's head as were required to make his little brother see the truth.

Saki left them in the hallway and Bill unlocked his hotel room. He pushed the door open and stood aside, waiting for Tom to enter. As much as Tom wanted to keep resisting and just fucking walk away, he was also keenly interested in seeing this argument to the bitter end, even if that end found both twins with black eyes.

He gave a grunt and stepped across the threshold. Bill shut the door behind them and followed Tom into the room. Tom sat down on the edge of the bed, keeping his silence while Bill quietly took off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket, not looking at Tom the whole time. Tom winced as his gaze dragged over Bill's tank top clad chest and his bare, muscled arms.

This was the moment where he looked away and tried to breathe. Tom would've never admitted it, but he had always found Bill attractive, and as crazy as it seemed, the sexual energy between them only increased when they were fighting. It was like two alpha dogs brawling for dominance, expect they both came out with hard knots instead of cuts and bruises.

The response just made Tom angrier. His eyes cut to the floor and he held them there, waiting for Bill to start pressing him again for answers. He was more ready to talk to Bill when other people weren't around, but he just wasn't willing to give up the anger clutching his chest.

“Okay.” Bill said, softly, coming to stand in front of Tom, “Everyone is gone. . . You can talk to me.”

Tom looked up slowly to find Bill's crotch right in front of his face. He leaned back, sucking in a deep breath. He shouldn't be thinking about his brother like this, especially when he had just broken up with Ria. No, he should  _never_ think about it, because it was just plain wrong. 

“Tom, please.” Bill reached out a hand and cradled Tom's face, gently, “You know, I can feel it.” His face twisted a bit and Tom could see pain in his eyes, “I can't tell what you're upset about, but it's right here.” His hand thumped his chest, “It hurts.”

Tom's eyes drifted shut, briefly, and he turned his face against Bill's hand, though he hadn't meant to crumble.

“Tell me?” Bill urged, kneeling down in front of Tom, so that they were nearly eye level. His brown eyes were sincere and pleading; that same looked had felled Tom's resistance far too many times, but this secret was more painful than any other he had ever kept from Bill.

Tom pursed his lips hard and drew in a calming breath through his nostrils. His chest hummed with a pain he couldn't quite describe, and he really just wanted to keep it there, contained inside him, like shards of glass embedded in his heart.

He gathered his ire and pushed Bill away. Bill sank to his seat on the floor and watched woefully as Tom got up from the bed and paced away. Tom scraped his hands through his hair, and tried to come up with some sort of excuse. He had thought he could make it through these pre-tour performances, but it was so much harder to break up without breaking down than he had predicted.

Bill pushed himself up off the floor, but lingered by the bed, watching his older brother's every move. Tom knew Bill wasn't going to give up until Tom spilled the secret, and standing here fighting his twin's attacks would do little but waste both their energy.

“Its. . .it's Ria.” Tom murmured at last.

Just saying her name was painful; it was a trigger that resurrected so many memories.

“What?” Bill said, in disbelief.

“I said, it's Ria.” Tom replied, his voice rising to an anger, clipped tone.

Bill stared at him with wide, blinking eyes, “You mean. . .?”

“She. . .um. . .she told me. . .” Tom bit his lip to suppress a wave of emotion, “It's just not . . . working out.”

“Oh my God, Tom. . .” Bill rushed across the room, “When?”

Tom lifted his shoulder, “Two weeks ago. ..”

“Why didn't you tell me?” Bill asked, pulling Tom into his arms, “I'm so sorry.”

Tom closed his eyes and rested his head on Bill's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his little brother's skin. It was so comforting, feeling Bill's arms around him; he wished those arms could do more for him . . . God, how he wished.

Tom lifted his hands and laid them softly on Bill's sides, feeling the warmth radiating through clothing and the distinct ridges of his ribs. He really just wanted to fucking cry on Bill's shoulder like a baby, but he tucked the emotion back beneath the surface.

He lifted his head, “Because I knew this would happen.”

Bill shook his head and stepped back, releasing Tom from those heavenly arms.

“You can always tell me.” He insisted, softly.

“Like I said, you wouldn't have understood.” Tom said, shouldering his way around Bill and going back to the bed. He sank to the edge and cradled his head between his hands.

“But you still could have told me, and I would've listened.”

Tom shook his head, locking out his head's idea of Bill “listening” and helping him get through it. That was his deprived sex drive talking, not his logic, not his broken heart.

“It's all your fault anyway.” He muttered.

“Excuse me?” Bill intoned, sharply, taking a step closer to Tom.

“I said it's your fucking fault.” Tom replied, “You're the one always talking about fucking true love and all that bullshit, how you're gonna find the right girl someday? Well, it doesn't happen, Bill. I tried it, because I believed you, and all that crap you've been spewing for years about love at first sight. Why can't you ever just shut your fucking mouth for once and not fuck with my life?”

Bill stared at him with wide, glossy eyes, his chest rising and falling sharply. His hands slowly curled into fists at his sides and he clenched his jaw tightly.

They stared at each other, eyes cutting through the tension and anger simmering in the air between them. Tom had hoped to throw off the need curling through his loins by making the flimsy and rather ridiculous claim. He wanted to make Bill utterly disgusted by him; he wanted to make Bill mad and undesirable, because when Bill was pissed off, he was probably the most annoying person on the planet.

“I will not take the blame for your failed relationship, Tom Kaulitz.” Bill said, at last, his voice quavering with anger, “You did that all on your own.”

“You know what? Fuck you.” Tom lashed out, rising from the bed and taking a threatening step toward Bill, “You're the one pouring fucking salt all over my wounds talking about true love and how wonderful a relationship is! It's not a fucking walk in the park, okay? It's reality and it really fucking sucks when it all caves in on your head.”

“I didn't know!” Bill cried, his face flushing deep red, “How was I supposed to know about Ria if you didn't tell me?”

“Maybe if you paid closer attention to your own brother than yourself, and looking in the goddamn mirror, taking fucking pictures of yourself all the time, you would've realized how long I've been in pain for!” Tom yelled, pointing an accusing finger just and inch from Bill's nose.

“That is not true!” Bill shouted, grabbing Tom's wrist and twisting it away from his face, “I love you, and you know it!”

“Yeah, but you fucking love yourself more, and that's why you'll never get a real relationship.” Tom growled, stepping into Bill's personal space and nearly touching his forehead to Bill's.

Bill took in a sharp, shocked breath at that statement, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“You bastard.” He whispered, jerking Tom's arm out of his grasp, “You fucking goddamn bastard!”

Tom absorbed the blow as Bill shoved him hard with both hands. He let his body stumble backwards, into the nightstand. The lamp rattled as he pushed himself off the stand and hurled himself at Bill, throwing a punch right at his brother's face. Bill flinched away and Tom's knuckles bounced off his shoulder, sending his brother spinning and reeling in the other direction. Bill caught his footing and came back at Tom, fist raised. They clashed in the middle of the room, fists and palms punching and slapping until they slipped and tumbled to the ground.

They tussled about for a moment, arms and legs tangling as they each attempted to gain the upper hand. At last, Tom managed to get his knees under himself and flip Bill onto his back. He straddled his brother hips and smacked Bill hard across the face.

“Owww!” Bill howled, grabbing onto Tom's wrists to ward off further blows, “You cunt! That fucking hurt!”

“Good!” Tom retorted, twisting his arms out of Bill's death grip.

One hand reached down to circle Bill's throat and the other drew back, poised to deliver another harsh blow. Bill bucked underneath him, arms flailing, slapping at Tom's chest, clawing at his face and really making it hard for Tom to aim right for his pretty little mouth.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Bill screamed, kicking his legs uselessly.

Tom let go of his throat and grabbed Bill's thrashing arms. He pinned them firmly above Bill's head, holding his brother trapped underneath him.

Bill breathed harshly through his nostrils, his eyes sparking with rage. He squirmed under the pressure of Tom's body, digging the little points of his hips into Tom's ass.

Their eyes clashed in between, daring the other to go a step farther, unwilling to back off. Neither of them wanted to give up the fight until they were both laying exhausted on the floor, sore and bruised.

Tom bit into his lower lip as he stared down at his brother. His whole body was alive with energy – a mixture of unleashed anger and repressed sexual tension; he was breathing hard, sweating, panting . . . and fuck, he could feel himself growing hard beneath the confines of his pants, throbbing with excitement and riled up from the fight.

He hesitated, caught off guard by the arousal coiling in his groin. He hadn't expected to get turned on by fighting with Bill; not that it hadn't happened before, but this time was _different._ It was about Ria, and lately, just her face had been a cockblock for him.

Bill took Tom's sudden lapse of attention to twist his hips and buck his bigger twin off. Tom's body tilted to the side and his shoulder hit the ground with a thud. Bill sprung lithely off the ground and flung himself on top of Tom. His hand sailed through the air and Tom barely had time to lift his arm before Bill's palm came down. He managed to deflect the blow off his forearm, but was not as lucky when Bill's other hand flailed at his face. Tom gave a growl of pain as Bill's hand struck the side of his face and his ear hard. He blinked hard, wincing as his ear began to ring sharply.

Bill was still trying to hit him, his hands coming down in a weak imitation of a punch, his breathing thin and panting, punctuated by little grunts of frustration. Tom could see the sweat on his chest, gathering between his pecs and glistening on his neck and temples. The thick, blond hair on the top of his head was disheveled in every direction; he couldn't have looked sexier.

Tom let his arms fall to the ground, absorbing each blow as Bill's palms and knuckles struck against his face and chest. He couldn't fight anymore knowing that he still wanted Bill. He had instigated the argument simply to cut off his arousal, but it had only seemed to make his desire worse.

Bill's attacks slowly tapered off when he realized Tom wasn't defending himself any longer. He sat back against Tom's groin, and brought his hands to his hips.

“Do you give up?”

Tom gazed up at him, his whole body lurching with a strange mixture of anger, pain, and lust. Bill looked so enticing, sitting there above him, his little ass seated against Tom's half-hard dick. He had to feel that. He had to fucking feel how hard and needy Tom was getting from all of this. . .

Bill slowly chewed at his lower lip, the determination in his eyes cracking when he noticed the look on Tom's face. He swallowed hard and began to rise from his seat on Tom's hips.

Without thinking it through, Tom reached up and grabbed Bill's arms, keeping him still.

“No, stay.” He said, gruffly, pulling Bill down toward him.

Bill's nostrils flared as they came face to face, their chests pressed together. Their mouths were just inches apart, so close. Tom could feel the hot, little breaths coming from Bill's lips, and almost, though only in his mind, taste the sweetness that lay beyond their plush embrace.

“Tom. . .” Bill began, hesitantly.

Tom twisted hard beneath him, throwing Bill off of him and landing his little brother on his back. Tom rolled on top of him, pinning Bill against the carpet and grabbing his wrists to keep Bill completely helpless. Bill squirmed, his eyes beginning to blink rapidly.

“Tomi, I . . .”

“Hush.” Tom ordered, pressing his knee between Bill's legs, “You don't even know what you've been doing to me, have you?”

Bill swallowed hard and licked his lips rapidly. His eyes darted around the room, as if searching for a way out. Tom pressed his knee harder between Bill's thighs, digging his leg into Bill's crotch. Bill let out a squeak and tried to twist away, but Tom bore down harder against him.

“Tom, please, I don't know what you mean. . .” He whispered.

“Yes you do.” Tom said, firmly, “You know.”

Bill shook his head and looked away, cheeks blushing a deep, rosy color.

“You said I couldn't lie to you, and I think it goes both ways.” Tom continued, “Look into my eyes right now and tell me you haven't felt this . . .”

“I don't know. . .” Bill whined, squirming harder.

“Do it.” Tom ordered.

Bill's eyes slowly reached up to meet his. His brows were drawn in a worried frown and his lashes beat rapidly against his cheeks. Tom could see the conflict in his eyes, but more than that, he could see the truth.

“I. . .I. . .” Bill whispered, struggling with the simple sentence.

“Tell me you don't want me.” Tom insisted, his fingers digging into Bill's slender wrists.

Bill groaned softly and undulated his hips slowly against Tom's leg, “Tom . . .ahh. . .”   
Tom closed his eyes and drew in a calming breath. He could feel Bill's dick slowly hardening against his thigh, giving distinct pulses as the blood rushed to fill him.

“Say it.” He ordered, his voice strangled with need.

“I . . .” Bill panted, “I . . .want you. . .”

Tom's eyes flew open. Bill had missed one little, yet very important word, but Tom was certain it had been intentional. Relief flooded his veins, though he should have expected anger or disgust.

Bill looked up at him with round, dark eyes, waiting tremulously for Tom's response.

With a growl, Tom picked himself up off the ground and dragged Bill with him. Bill went, hardly arguing as Tom forced him to the bed and threw him face down on the mattress. He was bent over the edge, his face buried in the sheets, his round little ass sticking out, and his legs splayed helplessly behind him. Tom moved on pure instinct now, following the need that had been building up inside him for weeks, months. . .years.

He grabbed the waistband of Bill's pants and gave them a hard yank, ripping the material down his knees. Bill gasped, his hands sinking into the comforter and holding on tight as Tom proceeded to do the same to his boxers. He was left bent over the bed, ass bare and vulnerable to Tom's desires.

Tom pressed up behind him, grabbing each of Bill's butt cheeks in his hands and kneading them with rough squeezes. Bill groaned and writhed against the mattress, keeping his flushed face buried in the sheets and out of Tom's sight. Tom groaned, his body nearly exploding in pleasure as he finally laid hold to what he had been lusting after for so long. Bill's skin was baby soft, especially down here, and so round and taut.

“Ahh, God. . .” Tom groaned.

He kneaded the flesh apart and pressed the tip of one thumb into the cleft, tracing up down. His thumb rubbed up against Bill's tight hole, causing Bill to thrash and moan, and Tom's dick to tighten almost painfully.

“Shit. . .” Tom muttered, drawing back to gaze down and the pink little pucker of flesh.

“Ahh, Tom. . .” Bill moaned, arching his hips back, “Please. . .”

“Please, what?” Tom demanded, running a hand over the smooth slope of one butt cheek.

“Please, I. . .I want. . .”

“I know what you want.” Tom interrupted, “But what about what I want? Huh, Bill? I've been watching you swing his little piece of ass in front of my face for years, and not gotten one little touch. What makes you think I should give you what you want?”  
Bill sniffled quietly into the sheets, his fingers clutching white-knuckled at the comforter.

“Please, Tom. . .” He groaned, “Just do what you have to do. . .”

“What I have to do. . .” Tom echoed, “You know what I want, Bill? . . .”

He let the sentence hang, let Bill wonder for a few moments before he completed the thought.

“I want to punish you.”

Bill let out a loud, shocked breath, “Tom, please. . .”

“I want to make it hurt for all the years you have been doing this to me.” Tom continued.

He was on fire now, not even slowing down to think through his actions. It was pure instinct and lust, burned down to it's finest point. He just knew he wanted Bill so bad, and he knew he wanted it to be hard, fast, _punishing._

“Then do it. . .” Bill murmured, his voice sounding shaken, yet resigned.

“What do you want me to do?” Tom leaned closer, digging his hard cock into Bill's ass.

Bill licked his lips and stared hard at the pattern on the bedsheets, “P-punish me. . .”

“You want to get your ass beat?” Tom urged, whispering the words directly into Bill's ear, “You want spanked hard?”

Bill's breathing hitched in his throat and he squirmed weakly against the sheets, “Yes. . .Yes, Tom. . .”

Tom slid to the side, keeping his body flush against Bill's, but not on top of him. He drew his hand up Bill's butt cheek, grazing his fingertips over the bump of his tailbone and followed the line of his spine. He drew Bill's shirt up slowly, revealing inch by inch, the smooth, bronzed flesh. He wanted to see as much flesh as possible, not because he liked it, but because he _needed_ it. He needed this so badly, he didn't know how much longer he could have survived.

Tom dragged his hand back down, resting it softly against Bill's ass cheek. The tension between them practically crackled like electricity; they each waited breathlessly for what was coming next.

“Yes, Tom. . .” Bill's voice was a quiet, low-pitched whine, “Please, do it. . .”

Tom lifted his hand and brought it back down sharply. His palm cracked loudly against Bill's ass, sending a shaft of pleasure straight through his chest and down into his crotch. Low in his belly, arousal twisted so deep and hard that it ached. Bill lurched against the bed, releasing a cry of surprise. His fingers scrabbled for deeper hold on the sheets. Tom planted his other hand on Bill's exposed back and brought his hand down again, a little harder this time. Bill squealed and squirmed, his flushed ass undulating hard against the edge of the mattress. Just the sight of his ass bucking like that made Tom's cock twitch hard.

Tom delivered another hard spanking. Bill arched beneath him, hips ducking away from the punishment before he thrust them back again, _begging_ Tom for more.

“You like that?” Tom demanded, slapping Bill's ass sharply.

Bill whined softly and writhed under Tom's firm hold.

Tom doled out two more before grabbing Bill by the hair and forcing him to lift his head from the sheets, “I said, do you like it?”

Bill panted breathlessly, his eyes cracking up to look up at Tom pleadingly, “Yes . .. God, yes, please. . .”

“Please what?” Tom insisted.

He didn't spank Bill this time, just gathered the punished flesh in his hand and fondled it until Bill squirmed and moaned.

“Please, more. . .”

“More? You want more spankings? You want it harder?”

“Yes!”

Tom cocked his hand back and delivered a hard blow that made Bill lunge against the mattress, his mouth stretching open in a muted cry of pleasure. Tom repeated the action several times in a row, not pausing between each spanking as they came harder, faster, sending firey pain across Bill's ass.

“Oh God, please!” Bill cried, thrashing against the sheets, “Fuck, please. . .”

Tom paused, breathing hard through his nostrils. His heart was pounding recklessly, his dick even more so. He was so hard it hurt, and his balls were so tight he felt as if he were going to explode.

He rose from the bed and grappled with his pants, yanking them down in his hurry until they pooled around his ankles. He pressed up behind Bill, digging his hard cock in between his little brother's reddened ass cheeks. With a growl, he began to thrust wildly, rutting against Bill's cleft, but not penetrating.

Bill moaned and writhed between Tom's driving thrusts and the mattress, trying to reach down and grab at his own dick. He was just as hard as Tom, maybe even more so from the spankings. He had never been so turned on his life; he had never thought getting punished would get him so excited and needy, but the feeling of Tom's hand coming down hard and painful on his ass, the sound of Tom's voice husky and lustful in his ear, made him want to come on the spot. Now, Tom was rutting against him, really going at it, their flesh pressed harshly together and creating beautiful, hot, stinging friction, and it was almost more than he could take.

Tom grabbed Bill's hips and dragged them up against his pounding dick, trying to get them as close as possible without actually entering. When he had begun the argument he hadn't expected this situation to be the result; being so unprepared, he hadn't thought of lube or condoms . . . well, he hadn't thought of anything in his reckless anger. And now, he simply wouldn't stop for anything. He was having Bill, even if it wasn't in the most Biblical or clinical sense.

Tom thrust his hips harder, picking up the pace as he felt the orgasm crawling up inside him, coiling his insides tight and making his balls tighten painfully. He was so close to coming he felt desperate for the pleasure to come crashing down on him. His chest was tight with impatience, pent-up desire, and rage he had been concealing for so long; he couldn't wait for it to finally exit his body, for his put-together facade to finally explode all over Bill's ass.

Looking down, he could see Bill's hand wedged between the mattress and his thigh, grabbing a handful of his dick and rubbing as well as he could in his position. He was really turned on by this; he hadn't been lying when he said he wanted more punishment. The fact that Tom's interpretation of his anger and repressed need had actually turned Bill on made pride and even hotter lust rear up in Tom's already overtaxed body.

With a ragged cry of pleasure, he came hard, shooting hot, slick cum along Bill's cleft, up over his cheeks, and spattering some of the thick, sticky fluid on Bill's bare back. It lasted several moments, his body jerking and writhing uncontrollably, as if some other force had taken over his body. The pleasure was insurmountable and so fast and ruthless he could hardly breathe by the time it was over. He couldn't remember the last time he had come so hard.

He drew back, feeling weak but still hungry for more. Ignoring the quiver in his limbs, he hauled Bill onto the bed and turned him onto his back. Bill's dick was still hard and red, throbbing angrily for release. His brother's long, slender fingers were wrapped loosely about the thick, aching rod, and his eyes were cast upward, asking permission.

“Come on, baby.” Tom panted, “Show me. Come for me.”

Bill's eyes sparked and he wrapped his fingers fully around his cock. He pulled and rubbed ardently at the throbbing flesh, lifting a thumb to rub at foreskin until Tom could see the hint of milky liquid welling at the tip. He leaned closer, watching intently as Bill's face twisted in pleasure and his body began to stiffen. His fist worked rapidly, almost desperately, pumping his hand hard against the aching flesh as the orgasm rose up to claim. Tom's mouth fell open and he nearly lost his breath when Bill finally climaxed, his body arching and clenching hard. Bill's heels dug into the mattress and his hips rose. Mouth stretching open in pleasure and eyes clamped shut, he ejaculated all over his stomach and knuckles, even shooting a few drops on his chest and neck.

Tom drew in shallow, inadequate breaths, nearly as taxed from the orgasm as Bill. Bill sank to the sheets, his fingers sliding away from his spent cock. His eyes opened slowly and he looked up at Tom almost sheepishly.

“Fucking God. . .” Tom murmured, reaching out hesitantly to touch Bill's flaccid cock.

Bill bit at his lower lip, his brows furrowing as Tom's fingertips caressed the sensitized flesh. Despite how tender he was now, he stayed still, allowing Tom to touch him, because it was what he had been aching for for so long.

Tom's fingers slid through the abundance of cum on Bill's stomach and he lifted his fingertips to his mouth to give it a taste. Bill's eyes widened slightly as Tom lapped up his cum, then closed his eyes in serene pleasure.

“Mmm.” Tom murmured.

He let out a sigh and lifted his eyelids to peruse Bill's motionless body. He was all weak limbs and soft skin, a beauty to behold. He practically glowed with post-coital bliss, from the blush on his cheeks to the tremble in his knees.

He reached out his hands and Tom went to him, snuggling contentedly against Bill's side. They lay together, wrapped in each other's arms, silent for the moment.

Later, Tom knew there would be a lot of discussing and explaining to do. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy the little bit of peace his heart was finally experiencing after so much turmoil.

 

 


	2. Broken (That's Why I Need You)

The next morning, breakfast was had at a round table in the hotel breakfast bar that accommodated both twins, Georg and Gustav, and David. Always late sleepers and weary from their long night, Tom and Bill were the last to drag themselves to the table before the continental breakfast closed for the day.

Bill piled his plate high with eggs, fluffy biscuits and gravy, and clutched his glass of orange juice to his chest as he sank to the table. He was barely awake, his eyes still swollen and crusted from sleep, but even with his faculties rather dimmed, he could feel Tom's stare from back at the buffet line. He stifled a yawn into his shoulder, meanwhile peeking at his brother, who had managed to turn his eyes back to the food in order to pour himself a glass of juice. Bill bit his lower lip as his gaze dragged across the bare arms and muscled back, all finely displayed by a ragged undershirt. His gray sweatpants barely clung to his hips, but the loose material somehow managed to frame his ass quite well.

Bill's stomach twisted and exploded into a million butterflies as he recalled his brother's exquisite body hunched over him, thrusting madly, as if his life depended on it.

 _Fuck. . ._ Bill looked away sharply and tried to calm his breathing.

He really couldn't remember the first time a sexual thought about his twin had crossed his mind. He had been fantasizing about getting Tom into bed with him for years, but he had never found the courage to explain to Tom how he felt. He knew it was wrong; he also knew that Tom would never judge him or stop loving him, but the secret was so dirty and sickening in most people's minds that Bill couldn't even bring himself to tell the one person he had always trusted. And after Tom had hooked up with Ria, Bill had forced himself to erase the thought of ever being with Tom in that manner from his mind. The relationship had seemed so serious, at least from Bill's standpoint; he had fully expected wedding announcements within the next year. But Tom's confession that they had split up changed everything. Suddenly, Bill had his chance back, and by some crazy strike of Fate or luck, Tom had responded . . . No, he hadn't just responded. He had instigated it, he had encouraged it. He had practically forced Bill over the bed for the most humiliating and gratifying moment of his life.

Bill's cheeks burned as he recalled Tom's hand coming down repeatedly, _spanking_ him the way a father would his child for being disobedient. It was so unexpected because he had never in a million years guessed that Tom wanted him, that he wanted to punish Bill like that. Even more shocking to Bill was that he had enjoyed it; he had _begged_ Tom for more, because he loved the way the pain burned white-hot and turned into pleasure each time Tom's palm cracked across his skin.

“. . . Bill. . .Bill?”

Bill looked up, uttering a shocked, questioning sound when someone snapped their fingers right in front of his face.

“Someone left their brain in bed.” David laughed.

Bill glanced over to see Georg withdrawing his hand, a wide grin on his face, “Did you hear a word I said?”

“No, sorry. . .” Bill muttered, his throat in knots, “David's right; I'm still half-asleep.”

“I was just saying.” Georg shrugged, “Do we remember how to do this? You're gonna have to do most of the talking still.”

They all laughed at themselves, but Georg was partially right. It had been years since the last tour; Bill still felt slightly exposed sitting in front of the cameras again, even though such experiences had been his entire existence five years ago.

“I don't mind.” Bill shrugged, “I'm just glad we're back.”

Suddenly, Tom loudly set his plate down on the table, and clunked his glass of orange juice down next to it. Plopping into his chair, he gave a loud sigh and picked up his fork.

Bill slid a glance to his brother, noting how tense his shoulders were, and how he was working his tongue across his lip ring like it was an itch. The tension was palpable, and for the first time since last night, Bill wondered if Tom were regretting his decision. Of course, it had to be hard, just breaking up with Ria, and now suddenly discovering that he wanted to fuck his little brother . . . But all Bill could think about was Tom changing his mind, leaving Bill once again bereft.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Tom?” David wondered, “You better turn that frown upside down before the interview and performance.”

Tom shot a glare at their prying manager, “Don't worry, I'll be all smiles.”

David smiled briefly, accustomed to Tom's argumentative nature. He let Tom's snappy retort slide and moved on to other topics that didn't require the guitarist to do much talking.

As the other three dove into conversation, Bill and Tom sat quietly side by side, shoveling food into their mouths so that they didn't have to participate. Bill's worry rose with each passing moment; Tom wasn't just ignoring their band mates – he was ignoring Bill, giving him the cold shoulder as if nothing had ever happened.

At last, Bill couldn't take it any longer. He set his fork down and pushed his plate away with half the food still on it. He reached over and touched Tom's arm, “Can we talk for a second?”

Tom looked over at him, his eyes clouding over with something akin to panic. He shook his head and quickly severed their gazes, “I'm still eating.”

Bill tightened his grip on Tom's arm, “Please.”

Tom sighed and threw his fork down, “Bill, really? I just fucking got out of bed.”

Everyone stopped talking and looked up at the arguing twins. To them, it appeared the fight from last night had spilled over into this morning; which meant today would be a pretty bumpy ride for everyone.

Bill ignored their stares and tried to meet Tom's eye, “Please, for just a second?”

“Can't I have just a second of peace to eat my breakfast?” Tom growled, pushing Bill's hand away, “It's too fucking early for this.”

Bill ducked his head to hide the way Tom's reaction stung his pride and his heart. His face was hot, but this time with angry tears instead of excitement. He rose sharply from the table, kicking the chair back with more force than necessary and exiting the room. He hurried past the front desk and escaped into the hallway where the first floor rooms were located. Leaning against the wall, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to relax the harsh knot forming in his throat. He wasn't going to fucking cry about this because he was a twenty-five year old man and he didn't need to be simpering like a girl over an asshole like Tom. He really didn't need to cry because he had already spilled so many tears over his unrequited need for his brother; so many tears that Tom didn't even know about.

Bill looked up when he heard footsteps in the lobby. He was shocked to see that Tom had come after him, though with his hands deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, head down. He was dragging his feet, like he really didn't want to have this conversation.

When he reached Bill's side he put a hand on his elbow, “I'm sorry, Bibi.”

Bill turned away, “Don't call me that.”

Tom's hand moved to his back and moved in a gentle circle, “Always have. I'm not gonna stop now.”

“I'm too old for childish names.” Bill muttered, just because he didn't want to cave hearing that sweet, familiar name coming off of Tom's lips.

“Come on,” Tom said, “I'm sorry. Don't do this.”

Bill bit his lower lip and stared hard at the ugly pattern of the carpet. It was a weird maroon color that really made his eyes burn, but it was almost better than looking into Tom's eyes right now.

“You don't do it.” He replied.

“Do what?”

“Reject me.” Bill said, a little louder this time, “Because you know, you've already done it too many times . . .”

“Bill, come on, look at me.” Tom caught him by the arms and forced Bill to turn around, “I'm not rejecting you, I just . . . I'm in a weird place right now, and I don't want . . . I can't talk about it in front of everyone.”

“Why? Because you're ashamed?” Bill asked, softly.

“It's personal.” Tom replied, his brows furrowing, “And yes, I'm a little ashamed that I want to . . . to do _that_ with you.”

“What do you want to do with me?” Bill crossed his arms, “Because I won't play this game with you, Tom. I won't jack you off or let you hump my ass if you're just gonna kick me to the curb the next morning. I'm not that easy-”

“No, no.” Tom was shaking his head, his fingers curling tight around Bill's shoulders, “I don't want that. You know I care more about you than anything, or anyone in this world.”

Bill let out a breath he had been holding and nodded slowly, “So. . . you still want to. . .”

“Here's the truth.” Tom said, his expression tense with anxiety, “I've. . . I've wanted you for a long time now . . . But I always knew it was wrong, or that I couldn't have you, or . . . Anyway, last night, I was just done with it all. I was sick of being in a relationship that wasn't working, but I was upset because Ria finally ended it . . . and ripped my safety net out from under me.”

“I don't understand. . .”

“I knew being with Ria would keep me from acting on my impulses. . .” Tom glanced away and Bill could see the flush rising above his collar, “But she's gone now and . . .”

Bill felt his heart flutter as Tom's hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek, cupping it softly and running his thumb back and forth.

“I want you . . . so much.” Tom whispered, raggedly, “I know it's wrong and I shouldn't, but I've been fighting with it for so long. . .I'm tired of fighting, Bill.”

Bill lifted his shoulder and gazed hopefully into Tom's eyes, “Then don't.”

Tom's other hand drifted down to clutch Bill's hip, dragging him closer, “You really want me to . . . To, you know. . .?”

Bill thought for only a few seconds before nodding, “Yes. I really want you to.”

“Only if it's what you really want, because I'd never hurt you.” Tom insisted, leaning his forehead against Bill's.

Bill nodded and closed his eyes. He felt weak inside, exhausted from this journey he had been fighting all the way through. It was as if he had been running a marathon, trying to catch his Tomi, trying to just brush his fingertips over what he wanted, only to fall behind at the last second. They had finally stopped running, and Bill just wanted to collapse into Tom's arms and feel the warmth and love from his brother for as long as he could.

“Come on.” Tom said, patting Bill's cheek, “We should get back. We have a long day ahead.”

Bill opened his eyes and looked into Tom's, “I wish we just had the night.”

 

~

 

 

Tom hadn't meant to cave. His mind was telling him to keep resisting Bill because incest was wrong; calling the act by it's name made the shame creep up inside him, a good way to keep the lust at bay.

After getting each other off last night, Tom had crept out of Bill's room while his brother slumbered, hoping to wash himself up and bring himself to his senses. He went into the bathroom and cleaned away all evidence of release, then stared at his own conflicted expression in the mirror, wondering what the fuck he was going to do now. He had finally let his desires come into the light, and there was no turning back. His little brother was an all or nothing sort of person, and once he thought he had it all, he didn't want to let go. He wanted to keep it, nurture it, but this was one thing that Tom couldn't let Bill foster. This was sex – and though he had confidently stated in many interviews that there were two kinds of love, he knew he was bullshitting himself. There weren't two kinds of love – there was love, and then there was lust. He just didn't know if he could give Bill both.

He went to bed in a pair of boxers and pulled the sheets over his head to hide himself from the rest of the world. To be honest, he was ashamed. He had finally ripped the innocence away from his brother with one hard, rough pull. He hadn't even been nice about it. He had taken his frustration out on Bill's ass and then plowed against him like some kind of wild animal, no lube, no nothing. Then, he let Bill finish himself off, stroking his own hard cock like he probably did every other night. It was sad, a pathetic imitation of what Tom, after being in a relationship, now considered sex to be.

Sex was sacred ground, and he had pretty much dragged it through the dirt and stomped on it.

Bill was sacred, and he had beat him harshly, and let him think Tom just wanted him for something to hump against.

If Bill hated Tom for the rest of his life, Tom would've understood. Because, the way things stood, Tom fucking hated _himself._

Tom's desires, however, had little consideration for his conscience. In the middle of the night, he started awake from the most pleasurable, wet dream ever, in which Bill was tied to his bed, each arm stretched to a bedpost. His cock was hard and red, needing Tom to make him come. He was pleading Tom, looking up at him with big, brown eyes, asking Tom if he could please, _please_ come. Instead, Tom flipped him over and used a belt to beat his ass raw before he finally shoved his cock into the tight, little hole. Bill cried and begged, but Tom didn't give him any mercy as he drove into Bill's tiny taut ass over and over again.

Tom gasped awake, pawing the bedsheets away from his head and sitting up so fast that his head spun. He looked down to find the front of his boxers entirely soaked through and his cock already going down from the hard climax.

He hadn't come in his sleep like that since he was a horny teenager looking at porn magazines of girls fingering each other's pussies.

Tom made a second trip to the bathroom, cleaned himself up, but didn't risk ruining another pair of boxers tonight. He fell back into bed naked and hoped to God the cleaning lady wouldn't walk in tomorrow to find a giant mess on the sheets.

But he couldn't fall back to sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking about Bill, and how happy he had looked when they cuddled together afterword. It was as if he had finally found a part of his life that had been missing.

This was why Tom had found himself making a midnight vow not to hurt Bill again. His little brother trusted him and loved him unconditionally, and abusing that trust was clearly wrong. Tom knew he couldn't stop himself from wanting Bill, and even taking what he wanted – that bell could not be unrung – but he knew he could treat his brother better than last night's encounter. He was pissed off at himself for not realizing that in the first place.

And so, Tom had really not meant to cave that morning when he followed Bill out of the breakfast bar and into the hallway. Because he simply didn't trust himself not to hurt Bill again. But Bill had made it very clear what he wanted, and Tom had always been terrible at denying his brother. He was ready to give in again, at the drop of a hat.

Later on, he would realize that he never once thought of Ria as he made the final decision that there would be no going back from this.

 

~

 

Almost better than releasing a new album, better than having a new interview for fans to watch, better than singing even, was the adrenaline rush Bill experienced from the moment he stepped on stage, until the moment he left the stadium full of screaming, hysterical fans. After five years of absence from the stage, that sensation came back even stronger than it ever had before. His heart felt as if it would implode in his chest and his body was like a live wire with energy. He felt like he sang amazing, and the love from the fans was abundant and overflowing. Bill couldn't have hoped for a better comeback.

By the time they exited the venue and climbed into the van, Bill was practically vibrating with energy. His limbs shook with the overload of adrenaline and he was sweating hard. But more than his excitement and exhaustion, he was horny. The need that had been raging inside him since last night suddenly skyrocketed with all the other hormones, leaving him achingly desperate.

Leaning back against the seat, Bill closed his eyes and tried to breathe in and out. His chest shuddered with each intake and the pangs of need low in his belly only increased. His cock leaped in his boxers as he thought about Tom coming to him tonight and working the same wonderful, shocking pleasure from his body once more. It would be the perfect moment, right after their comeback performance when they were both high on adrenaline, ego, and lust.

Bill gasped when he felt a hand on his thigh. His eyes flew open and he looked up to see Tom sitting next to him, a dark look of desire hanging over his eyes. He gave Bill's leg a squeeze and mouthed one word, “Tonight.”

Bill looked away, breathing frantically. He clutched his arms over his stomach as his whole insides clenched hard with need. His cock was fully erect in moments, creating a painfully noticeable bulge behind his zipper. He throbbed insistently, demanding release, demanding to be only from Tom.

He leaned against the window, practically writhing in his seat until they returned to the hotel.

They had all agreed to go out tonight and celebrate, but celebrating was the last thing Bill wanted to do – at least not in public. He wondered briefly if he could get out of partying, but quickly realized that he needed to enjoy this moment in his career, with his band mates. Sex wasn't everything – but it sure meant a damn lot when the object of his desire had finally stopped eluding him after so many years.

In the hotel hallway, the Tokio Hotel team agreed to shower, change clothes, and get ready for a night out on the town. They had visited Oberhausen many times during their career, and they all had old, favorite places they wanted to visit to mark this new milestone.

Everyone quickly parted to the rooms, and no one noticed when Tom slipped into Bill's room behind him. Bill gasped as Tom's fingers closed around his wrist, pulled him back just as the door shut behind them.

“What are you doing?” Bill hissed.

Tom pulled Bill's body firmly to his and clutched the back of his neck to reel him in for a kiss.

“I can't wait any longer.” Tom groaned.

Their mouths touched, brief sucking between heavy panting and groaning until Tom inclined his mouth more firmly and released a probing tongue. Bill melted against him and immediately opened his lips to the invasion. Tom's tongue slipped smoothly past his teeth and set out on a firm path to explore every part of his brother's hot, sweet mouth. Bill moaned and clutched Tom's shoulders as Tom's tongue flicked over the expanse of his own tongue and curled up to stroke across the palate and back down, grazing against teeth.

“Tom. . .” Bill panted as Tom let up for a few moments.

Tom spun them around and slammed Bill up against the wall. His hands darted down Bill's body and latched onto Bill's butt cheeks through the skin-tight material of his pants. He pulled Bill hard against him and forced one thigh up against his hip, leaving Bill teetering weakly on one set of toes. Bill wrapped his arms more fully around Tom's neck and threw himself wholly into the kiss. Saliva churned between their mouths, tongues pushing back and forth, lips sucking down hard on the tender flesh, teeth momentarily coming to bear. Bill pressed as hard as he could against Tom with only one foot to support himself, trying to grind his erection into Tom's. He could feel how hard his twin was, even with the layers of material between them, and he wanted nothing more than to strip it away and let their flesh battle it out just like their tongues.

“Tom. . . oh, Tom. . .” Bill panted, tearing his lips away from Tom's, “Please . . . wanna feel you . . .”

Tom let Bill's leg down and leaned back an inch to dig his gaze into Bill's. His fingers were tight on Bill's hips, searching beneath the edge of his shirt to find bare skin, “You want my cock?” He insisted.

Bill nodded eagerly, his fingers tightening on Tom's shoulders.

“Say it.” Tom growled, jerking Bill's hips forward so that their cocks aligned through clothing, “Say you want my big, hard cock.”

Bill whimpered, hiding his face in Tom's shoulder as the blood flooded his cheeks. He could feel Tom's dick grinding into his, painful almost, but too good to deny.

“I . . . I want you. . .” Bill gasped in a breath so finish the plea, “Want your big. . .hard cock. . .”

Suddenly, Tom's fingers were off of Bill's hip and up in his hair, yanking his head back hard. Bill cried out as Tom forced him down to his knees, between the wall and Tom's towering body.

“You want it?” Tom demanded, his eyes blazing with need, “Then take it.”

Bill shuddered, a shaft of desire and fear going through his chest. He swallowed hard, staring at Tom's clothed erection, “Tom, I've never. . .”

Tom's brows furrowed with impatience, and his fingers curled around Bill's hair, “Then it'll be a learning experience.”

Bill licked his lips and employed his shaking hands to divest Tom of his jeans and boxers. His groin began to tingle when he laid eyes on Tom's hard cock rising from the material. The flesh was dusky with arousal and visibly throbbing; a hint of pre-cum oozed at the tip, just one of the many indicators of how much Tom wanted his dick in Bill's mouth.

Tom's fingers loosened from Bill's hair and he cupped Bill's cheeks with both hands. Guiding him forward, he brushed one thumb down to open his trembling brother's mouth.

“Open.” He murmured, stroking Bill's lower lip gently.

Bill obediently opened his mouth, his heart palpitating as Tom directed his cock between his lips. The flesh was hard and thick against his tongue, sending a heady taste across his senses. He liked how it felt, pushing into his mouth like it would his body, but he was afraid he would do it wrong.

“Wider.” Tom encouraged, one hand nudging Bill's jaw down farther.

Bill made a squeaky sound of surprise as Tom's cock slid farther into his mouth, the head nudging up against his throat. He reached up to grab onto Tom's hips, his heart pounding out of control his mind racing with irrational, panicky thoughts, but unable to communicate anything with Tom's cock sealing his mouth silent.

“Shh, shh.” Tom murmured, stroking Bill's cheek, “It's okay. . . It's good, really good, baby.”

Bill let out a breath through his nostrils and looked up at Tom for direction. He knew he needed to suck, and suck really good and hard, but he needed Tom to tell him if he was doing it right.

He gave an experimental suck, tightening his mouth and forming a seal with his lips around the shaft. Tom let out a low moan and sagged forward against the wall.

“Oh God .. .”

Bill drew back to the head, suckling gently at the tender flesh. A pleased shiver laced his veins as Tom groaned louder and his dick twitched inside the hot press of Bill's mouth. Keeping his gaze on his brother's slack, pleasured expression, he went back down the shaft, sucking firmly as he went.

“Good, good. . .” Tom murmured, sliding his fingers to the back of Bill's neck to guide him, “Faster now, baby.”

Bill did as he was told, bobbing his head faster over Tom's cock. He sucked as rapidly as he could, trying to keep the saliva pooled about the imprisoned flesh but slobbering helplessly down the thick shaft as Tom began to pump his hips in controlled rotations in and out of Bill's mouth. Bill breathed hard through his nostrils, finding himself nearly devoid of oxygen with Tom's cock plugging his throat and his heart pounding out of control.

Tom groaned loudly above him, his knees quivering as the pleasure quickly escalated. His fingers curled around the back of Bill's neck, dragging him forward on his cock until Bill squeaked aloud in protest.

“Oh, yeah, baby. . . that's so good. . .” Tom mumbled, using his other hand to stroke Bill's cheek.

Bill turned his face up against that gentle touch and closed his eyes, focusing on taking as much of Tom's sizable cock that he could manage. He really wanted to pleasure Tom like this and make it good – not just good, but mind-blowing. He wanted it to be better than any blowjob Ria had ever given Tom.

“Come on. . .” Tom groaned, pumping his hips a little faster, “Take it all, baby . . . Please, baby . . .”

Bill could see that Tom was nearly to the edge, ready to explode, and he wouldn't take much more coaxing. Clamping his lips tight around Tom's cock, Bill let out a breath through his nose and swallowed without thinking. He'd read about deep throat before, how it wasn't possible for most people, how you had to practice. But Bill didn't want to wait for months, years even to catch up all his inexperience. He wanted it all now because he was a grown man and he should be able to give that to his partner. He should be able to give Tom everything he ever wanted; Bill had only been dreaming about it since he was teenager, after all.

One second, he was choking, thinking he had made a big mistake and he was about to totally kill Tom's orgasm by puking all over his dick. . . And the next, his throat was full of dick and he almost couldn't breathe around the suffocating weight. He could feel Tom's dick moving in and out, slick, smooth pumps that pushed him all the way inside Bill's mouth. His neatly trimmed crotch was up against Bill's nose, his hips timidly pulsing to find the end of a tunnel that was no longer there.

Bill opened his eyes and looked up at Tom to find his brother staring down at him in shock, his eyes wide, his cheeks brightly flushed. He made a weak, gasping sound, his body shuddering and stiffening against Bill.

“Bill, I'm. . .” He managed, breathlessly, “I'm gonna. . .”

He pulled back suddenly, allowing the air to rush fully back into Bill's lungs. Bill drew back, slamming his eyes shut as a hot gush of liquid sprayed his lips and cheeks and ran in thick, sticky rivers down his chin and neck. It came in hot, rapid bursts, painting Bill's face with the abundance of his release. Bill shrank down against the wall until it was over, still hardly breathing because he wasn't sure if this feeling inside him was disgust that Tom had just cum all over his face, or pleasure because he liked how the hot, sticky fluid marked him all over as Tom's.

At last, Tom sank to his knees in front of Bill, panting and gasping. He grabbed Bill's face with both hands and pulled Bill up from his cowering position. Bill was a little shocked when Tom kissed him hard, despite the cum covering his lips and chin. He kissed back nonetheless, inwardly squealing and clapping his hands that he had passed the test.

When the kiss ended, Tom lifted his mouth to plant another on Bill's forehead.

“Thank you. . .” He murmured, drawing Bill to his chest.

Bill bit his lower lip and shyly looked up at Tom through his lashes, “It was okay?”

“Okay?” Tom raised his brows, “It was more than okay, Bill . . . It was . . .ahh, God. . .I can't even describe . . .”

Bill suppressed a grin, “Okay, I'll choose to believe you.”

“I'm not lying.” Tom insisted, “It was amazing. No one has ever done _that. . ._ ”

Bill pursed his lips and glanced away, blushing, “It was kind of a spontaneous thing. I didn't mean to . . .”

“Don't apologize.” Tom said, grabbing Bill's face to make his blushing and freshly debauched brother look at him, “It was amazing . . . And now, let me do you?”

Bill nodded, eagerly, “Yes, please.”

Tom lifted them from the floor and led Bill back to the bed. He pressed Bill down against the sheets and suffocated him with another long, deep kiss while his fingers went to work tugging Bill's clothes off. Bill complied, lifting his hips as his pants departed and kicking the restrictive material off of his ankles. Tom's hand darted beneath the edge of his shirt and the worked the material up past his stomach so that he could stroke naked skin. Bill moaned as Tom's fingers slipped farther up to pluck at his nipple ring, causing the tender flesh to insistently harden.

“Ahh, Tom, please. . .” Bill moaned when Tom's mouth lifted.

They both glanced down to see Bill's cock lying achingly hard against his stomach, throbbing and angry red that demanded release and marked at the tip by pearly arousal.

“Please. . .” Bill whispered, lifting his hips, “I'll come in a few minutes if you don't hurry up and get down there.”

Tom bit back a grin and moved to kneel between Bill's legs. He tapped his fingertips against the smooth flesh of one of Bill's inner thighs, “Spread 'em for me, baby.”

Bill choked back a groan, blushing deeply as he slowly inched his legs apart. He wanted Tom to see him, fully naked and ready, but the simple, authoritative phrase made him flush hotly. He almost wished his brother would stop being so goddamn sexy and demanding and all around irresistible.

Tom leaned over him, confidently palming Bill's aching cock in his warm, solid fist. Bill groaned and arched his hips up against the contact, his senses suddenly alive and sparking with the need to come. Tom's fist worked over him in a series of quick, determined pumps that practically made Bill fall apart right then and there. He lapsed against the bed, moaning weakly as Tom thumbed expertly at the head, working foreskin until it was a lather with his oozing arousal.

“Ooh. . . ahh, oh God. . .” Bill moaned, brokenly, his hips twitching uncontrollably as the sweet friction of Tom's rough, calloused hand made his insides quiver with pre-orgasmic spasms.

“You like this?” Tom murmured, hovering over Bill to deliver hot, wet kisses against his lips and cheeks.

“Yes. . .Yes, Tom. . .” Bill moaned, reaching up to clutch onto Tom's shoulder.

“You wanna cum all over my hand?”

Bill moaned loudly, “Tom, please!”

“Oh yeah you wanna get off right now, don't you?” Tom murmured, his voice a soft, scratchy whisper in Bill's ear that made his whole body dance against the sheets as if electrocuted.

“Fuck, please. . .” Bill moaned as Tom's once determined strokes began to wan into soft, unsatisfying caresses, “Don't you fucking stop. . .”

Tom's fingers slid away, leaving Bill's cock standing hard and needy against his belly.

“Tom!” Bill protested, cracking his eyes open.

Tom leaned over him, eyes hot and cutting into Bill like knives, ripping him open to see the pleasure roiling through his insides. His expression was one of pleasure and intense need; Bill could see that Tom wanted to do so much more in this moment.

“You know,” Tom murmured, slowly moving down Bill's body to lick a wet trail down his stomach, “I would love to flip you over and eat that pretty little hole of yours . . .”

Bill gasped and shuddered, his mind suddenly full of images of that very act – himself bent over on the bed, and Tom kneeling behind him, face pressed to his ass, tongue stroking, lips sucking at the tender bit of flesh. . .

“If only we had more time.” Tom muttered, situating himself between Bill's wide spread legs, his face right next to Bill's throbbing cock.

“Tom!” Bill cried just as Tom was about to take his cock into his mouth.

Tom looked up at him with dark, hazy eyes, “Hmm?”

“You'll do it?”

“Eat you?” Tom's lips curled deviously.

Bill nodded, feeling his face growing hot again, “Yes . . . You have to promise me you will.”

Tom lifted himself up on his elbows and ran a leisurely fingertip down the side of Bill's engorged cock, “Baby, as soon as I have more than an hour of uninterrupted free time with you, I am going to do everything I ever fantasized about.”

Bill let his head fall back against the sheets, “Sounds perfect.”

“It will be.” Tom murmured.

Before Bill could think about later on, Tom's mouth surrounded him and he found himself sinking into the best pleasure he had ever felt. Tom's mouth was hot and wet around him, tongue swirling over the head, lips sucking down hard. Just as he had predicted, he felt himself coming hard in only a few minutes; but he didn't care how long it took, or how fast he came, as long as he was with Tom.

 

 


	3. Sexy (That's Why I Want You)

The party was probably one of the biggest that the Tokio Hotel entourage had ever thrown. Their group took up a large section of the club that they had chosen to assemble at tonight. All the staff, crew, and members were there to toast the ongoing success of the band. Even some of their friends from Hamburg and Magdeburg had driven in to watch the show and join them for drinks later on.

Several years ago, Tom would have been seriously stoked about a party of this nature. He could get drinks, girls, and sex, all in that order, and rather quickly. He could recall a number of incidents in which he found a hot girl and they sequestered themselves in a booth away from the rest so that he could slip his hand under her skirt and finger her pussy, already completely wet for him. At the time, he had been so proud when he felt the girls shuddering in the throes of her barely contained orgasm just minutes later; now, when he thought about all those girls, he simply felt sick admitting that they had been poor replacements for what he really wanted. He had never allowed himself to confess to himself that he wanted Bill, but now that he was resigned to the relationship, he found Bill cropping up everywhere in the illustrious history of his sex life. Bill had been his main drive, even when he was trying to forget about the allure of his little brother's sweet, tiny ass.

Tonight, almost ten years after those youthful romps, Tom was weary of the flashing, neon lights and constant stream of alcohol. Any other night, he would've gotten buzzed, maybe even hammered, but right now, partying was the only thing standing between him and Bill – more accurately, Tom getting Bill into his bed; partying had never seemed so boring and superficial.

The core members of the Tokio Hotel team were seated at a large, round table in the back corner, half the seats being a booth, and the outer-facing seats being individual chairs. Bill was sandwiched right in the middle of the booth by Georg on one side and Natalie on the other. Tom had lagged behind and found himself woefully separated from his brother; he preferred open seats that he could leave at any time, but at the moment, he just wanted to be next to Bill, feeling the warmth of skin through clothing even if it was only their legs touching.

At last, after listening to nearly an hour of conversation without participating, Tom rose from his chair with the excuse that he needed to use the restroom. He shouldered his way through the thick crowd, mumbling apologies each time he jostled a dancing or drunken stranger. He didn't really need to use the restroom, so he thought he'd step outside and take a smoke break, hopefully let the nicotine calm him down. He was too riled up and the night had hardly begun.

Tom had nearly made it to the glowing, red exit sign when he ran directly into someone much smaller than him, nearly plowing the young lady over in his hurry to get outside. He spun around, already spewing a myriad of apologies, but stopped cold when he laid eyes on the girl's beautiful, yet shocked face.

Tom took a step back, “Ria?”

She didn't look away, just stared at him with huge, dark eyes, her arms crossed under her breasts. She held her chin up, “Tom, don't look so surprised.”

“Why not?” He exclaimed, his eyes cutting the corner booth, where the rest of the group was preoccupied.

“According to all of them, I'm still your girl right?” She asked, looking pained.

He clenched his teeth and gave himself a mental kick, “Right. . .Yes.”

“You should tell them.” She took a step closer and laid a gentle hand on his arm.

He let out a deep sigh and scraped a hand through his hair, “I know. . .”

“I thought I should just show up since I haven't gotten any angry emails or calls. . .”

“From who?” He frowned.

She made a disgusted sound and rolled her eyes, “These people are more important to you than family.” She shrugged, “If they knew, I would hear about it. . . Especially Bill.”

She added the last part resentfully and for a moment, Tom wondered just how much she knew or wondered about the twins' relationship. For a brief second, he felt a flutter of anxiety in his chest, that Ria already perceived his need for Bill . . . that perhaps, that had been the reason for her suddenly dumping him.

Tom licked his lips and shrugged, “Bill knows.”

A frown knitted her brow, “Good. I'm glad there's someone there for you.”

Tom nodded and glanced at the floor, trying to hide the sudden look of horror on his face. Worse than Ria suspecting Tom and Bill's relationship was Ria knowing that Tom knew. He didn't want to have that conversation, even if it would answer the heartbroken questions that had been swirling through his mind since she had dropped the bomb, “This isn't working. . .I think we should go our separate ways.” He had really thought it was working, but maybe he had just been trying to convince himself that Ria was right for him; after the events of the last two days, Tom could easily track the path of his own deception, from his teen years, to this very moment.

“Okay, I should go say hi to everyone. . .” She murmured as the silence between them lengthened.

“Yeah.” Tom agreed, lamely.

He cringed as she turned and walked in the direction of the Tokio Hotel group without so much as a 'goodbye'. He'd really fucked up there, and if he weren't so busy nursing the wounds of his broken heart, he would almost feel sorry for Ria. In deceiving himself, he had also tricked her; maybe what they had once had wasn't love, but a poor mockery and imitation of what Tom had really been reaching for.

Tom shook his head to rid himself of the depressing thoughts and left the club. Outside, the weather had cooled considerably and there was an easy wind blowing down the empty street. Overhead, the sky was clear and calm, boasting a wide, twinkling display of stars and a waning moon. Tom lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the building with his head tilted back, watching the silent and serene view of the heavenly fixtures, just trying to make his heart stop beating that uneven, terrified rhythm. He breathed in and out, letting smoke pour leisurely from his lips and nostrils, and sinking into the pleasure of nicotine hitting his system in that familiar and soothing way.

He didn't want to think about Ria anymore. Though the relationship had ended only two weeks ago, he was ready to move on. He wanted to forget it ever happened, as a cruel as that sounded. There were so many things he despised about the memories he had once held dear that he could hardly bear to think about them without feeling the crimson flush of shame. He wasn't a real man, not really, hiding from his true feelings, lying to everyone around him, crushing Bill's heart for years, letting the woman end the relationship when it should've been over a long time ago. . . And just knowing that Bill was what he wanted all along made it even more humiliating. He didn't want to want his brother; he just _did_ , and he would rather dwell on the pleasure than the shame.

Tom lifted his head sharply when he heard the front door of the club open. The raucous laughter and music from inside seeped out onto the quiet sidewalk before the door shut again, and Bill came into view. He was wearing incredibly tight, white skinny jeans, chunky gold shoe boots, and a gold bomber jacket over filmy, red v-neck shirt that clearly showed off the twinkle of his nipple and belly button piercings. Tom buttoned his teeth over his his lower lip and urged himself to look away. They still had so many hours to go before this party finally wrapped. . .

“Hey, I saw Ria.” Bill said, softly as he approached.

Tom took a quick drag on his cigarette and puffed the smoke out just as rapidly, “She didn't have to come just to save face.”

“It was nice of her in a way. . .” Bill shrugged, not sounding convinced, “Are you okay?”

Tom lifted his shoulder and stared aimlessly across the street, “It just makes it all real again, you know.”

“It wasn't before?”

“It was.” Tom said, tapping his ashes out on the ground and watching them scatter to the wind, “But you. . . you, uh. . . made me forget, I guess.”

Bill reached out and took Tom's wrists, pulling his brother around to face him. His dark eyes were sincere and lovely in the dim lighting of the moon, “I can say this to you because you're my twin . . . You have to face it, Tom, and get on with life. You can't just hide from it because you have something better now.”

Tom pulled away, cracking a smile despite the tightness in his throat, “Okay, that was rude _and_ conceited.”

“Conceited?” Bill replied, innocently. He snatched Tom's cigarette from his fingers and sucked on it, making large, blinking eyes at Tom.

Tom shook his head, “Something better?”

Bill shrugged and lifted his chin as he blew smoke in a steady stream from his lips, “Aren't I?”

“Diva.” Tom muttered, grabbing the cigarette back from his brother.

“Okay, but really.” Bill straightened his smile, “Being with me doesn't change the fact that you were in the relationship for a long time and that it really hurt when you broke up.”

“I know.” Tom bit his lower lip, “I know, I just . . . I want to enjoy this. . .” He motioned between them, “. . . without thinking about _her._ ”

“You can.” Bill said, pressing himself to Tom's side, “But let yourself heal . . . I'll do the rest.”

He pressed a warm, wet kiss to Tom's jawline, right next to his ear. Tom shuddered and wrapped his arm firmly around Bill's waist, holding his brother close as Bill's mouth drifted lower, thrilling his tongue along Tom's pounding carotid. Tom closed his eyes, relishing the tease of Bill's tongue stud against his skin for only a few moments before he pulled back.

“Bill, not here. . .”

Bill drew back, looking disappointed, “They won't miss us. . .”

“Not here.” Tom insisted, “It's too public, you idiot.”

Bill huffed and crossed his arms, “I'm horny and bored, Tom. Not a good combination.”

“Okay, you find a safe place for us to do it, and I'll agree.” Tom challenged, because he totally agreed with Bill; he simply didn't want to wait all night.”

Bill thought in discouraged silence for a few moments before his eyes brightened, “The car!”

Tom's eyes widened, “No, Bill! That's crazy! Someone could see!”

“No, they won't. If I'm underneath you, they'll just think you're doing some girl.” Bill chattered, excitedly, “All they'll see is feet, and no one will think twice about two people banging outside of a night club. Come on, Tom, please!”

Tom groaned and glanced down the street where Bill's Audi Q7 was parked. It was so risky that it almost killed the boner he had started, but just the idea of cramming Bill up against the hot, sticky leather seats made his insides twist with need. In a flash, he could imagine Bill's naked, bronzed skin, gloriously defined against the shiny, deep black of the leather, both canvases painted with sweat and semen and crushed together in a hurry for completion.

“Fuck. . .” Tom muttered, pressing the heel of one hand to his forehead to eradicate the awfully erotic images.

“Come on,” Bill said, gleefully, grabbing Tom's hand.

Tom dropped his cigarette and hardly managed to stomp it out before Bill was dragging him down the street. Tom looked this way and that, raking anxious eyes across the street. He knew that they were often photographed by surreptitious reporters at parties like this one, but his peruse of the crowded avenue didn't discover anyone lurking behind a car or sidewalk shrub.

Tom hastened his steps after Bill, and soon, they were tumbling into the backseat of the Audi, breaths loud and eager in the confined space. The door was barely shut on Tom's heels when Bill grabbed Tom by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss. They toppled backwards, Bill lying on his back as Tom scrambled in between his legs and seal the kiss. Bill's legs curled around him, dragging him in tightly as their lips clashed, hot and urgent with insatiable hunger. Tom's hand darted down between them, searching through layers of clothing to find naked skin. He delved his hand under Bill's shirt and skimmed his fingers up the smooth, fine flesh until he reached the bejeweled nipple. Bill moaned and arched, pushing his hard crotch against Tom's as Tom tugged on the little ring.

“Fuck. . .ah. . .Tom. . .” Bill moaned, tilting his head back against the car door.

Tom shoved the shirt and jacket out of the way, pausing for only a moment as Bill assisted him in getting the jacket off his arms before Tom leaned down to attach his mouth to Bill's heaving chest. His lips closed around the nipple and jewelry, sucking in briefly before drawing back to stretch the skin by his hold on the ring.

Bill swallowed by a shout of pleasure and dug his nails into Tom's back, panting, “Tom, please. . . please. . .don't. . .”

Tom lifted his head, releasing the aching nipple for a short time to whisper, “Isn't that what it's there for?”

“No. . .I mean, yes, but. . .” Bill panted, his eyes wide and anxious in the dim lighting, “Not now. . .”

Tom leaned down to capture the nipple once more, ignoring his brother's squeaks of protest as he laced his tongue through the ring, turned it about and tugged on it some more, fully enjoying the benefits of this particular piercing for the first time. Bill moaned and squirmed underneath him, hands pressing against Tom's chest until Tom lifted his head, releasing the swollen flesh. Bill panted and glanced down at his chest, whining at the sight of his nipple fully engorged and inflamed from Tom's toying with it.

Tom leaned back and moved on to Bill's belt buckle next. He didn't want to linger with teasing Bill too long because their group was still waiting for them back in the club . . . Well, mainly because he couldn't wait any longer to get his hands on Bill's junk.

Tom gave the incredibly tight jeans and firm pull, yanking them all the way down Bill's legs until they were inside out.

“What do I tell you about wearing such tight clothes?” He admonished.

“I never had to worry about these situations before.” Bill retorted, kicking the jeans off his ankles, “Now hurry up. I want to come.”

Tom swiftly pulled Bill's boxers down right after the jeans and flipped his brother onto his stomach. He laid a sharp smack to Bill's flank and murmured, “Not so fast, bossy.”

“Tom. . .?” Bill's voice was wavering as he glanced over his shoulder, “What are you going to. . .”

His sentence quickly faded as Tom pressed his finger into his mouth, thoroughly wetting it with saliva before pressing it between Bill's buttocks. Bill bit back a squeal and arched his hips as Tom swirled his wet fingertip around the tight pucker of his entrance before pressing it forward. Bill twitched against the seat, his fingers going into a death grip around the leather as Tom's finger pierced the tight, untried hole. Tom paused for a moment, letting the muscles clench around his finger and relax after getting used to the sensation before giving his hand a slow, languid pump. Bill groaned and pressed his cheek firmly against the leather seat. He arched his hips back, eager for more though he knew he was far from taking Tom's cock.

Tom grasped Bill's bare hip, running his thumb back and forth across the smooth flesh while his worked his finger in and out, probing about the inner walls until he felt the muscles begin to loosen. He carefully added a second finger and was rewarded by Bill whining and wiggling against the seat.

“Is that good?” Tom murmured, leaning over his brother so that he could whisper right in Bill's ear.

Bill nodded and whimpered through clenched teeth. His hips spasmed at irregular intervals as Tom pressed his fingers in, alternately shallow and deep. Tom could feel his body already beginning to open up to the intrusion, and he wondered if Bill ever fingered himself.

Tom strengthened his pace, allowing his fingers to pump in deeper and faster, searching for the little spot that would made his little twin's world explode. Bill squealed softly and keened into the seat, his feet kicking helplessly at the door as he tried to escape the torturous pleasure. Tom pressed his fingers as deep as they would go and held them there, letting the pressure remain steady and unbearable until an audible cry burst from Bill's lips and he began to plead in between hiccuping gasps. Tom smiled as he located Bill's prostate moments later, and Bill's desperate pleas graduate to severely pleasured sobs. He writhed uncontrollably against the seat, nails clawing, cock throbbing madly against the smooth leather.

“Tom, ahh. . .Tom, please. . .Oh my God, please. . .” Bill cried, managing to crack his eyes open and look over his shoulder at Tom in plea for mercy.

Tom eased his fingers off of Bill's prostate, allowing Bill to breathe for a few moments before setting a quick, knifing pace. Bill gasped and his hips rose sharply from the seat, presenting his round little ass. Tom clasped his other hand over one taut ass cheek and stretched the flesh open to watch his fingers delve into the tight, aching hole.

“You like that?” He murmured, huskily, “Yeah, baby, you like getting finger fucked, don't you?”

“Ahh. . .Yes. . .nghhh, please. . .” Bill moaned, his face twisted with please, “I'm going to . . . to . . . please. . .Oh God. . .”

Tom withdrew his hand and flipped Bill swiftly onto his back. Shoving his body between Bill's spread, quivering thighs he grabbed Bill's hard, leaking dick and began to pump it in hard, merciless strokes. Bill thrashed beneath him, face entirely flushed and damp with sweat as Tom quickly worked him to orgasm. His body needed little persuasion to ejaculate a full, steamy load of cum across Tom's knuckles and his own stomach. Hot, wet gushes of release jetted from the swollen head as he bucked wildly and moaned in weak, pleased gasps from between clenched teeth.

When his body finally stopped convulsing, he relaxed against the seat, breathing hard. His eyes slowly fluttered open and he looked up at Tom with a slow, pleasure-drugged smile.

“Oh, Tomi. . .” He whispered, his voice low and throaty with the recent climax.

Tom grinned and avoided Bill's cum-slick stomach as he leaned down to press a hot, wet kiss on Bill's mouth. Bill was still lifting his mouth to the kiss when Tom leaned back and indicated to the mess on his hand, “Do you have kleenex in here?”

Bill nodded weakly, “Up in the glove box.”

Tom leaned between the two front seats and stretched to reach the glove box. He snatched a small package of tissues from the box and rejoined Bill in the back seat to clean up. He polished his hand off and extended the kleenex to Bill.

Bill watched Tom coyly as he wiped the cum from his stomach and the tip of his cock. He was pleasantly soft now from release, but Tom found his stomach full of butterflies just watching his brother naked. His skin was perfectly smooth and tan from the L.A. sun, and Tom could now fully appreciate the ripple of toned muscle beneath the veneer of flesh.

Bill tossed the used tissues on the ground and reached out to tug on Tom's belt buckle. He bit his lower lip in an almost innocent gesture as he opened Tom's pants and began to tug them down his thighs. Tom eagerly complied, shoving the pant legs off with his toes as Bill crowded against him, offering quick, nibbling kisses in between exhilarated breaths. His fingers petted down Tom's stomach, feeling the hard, yet quivering muscles through his t-shirt until he reached the thick, throbbing shaft of his erection. The slim, warm fingers wrapped firmly around Tom's cock, dragging upward in one smooth motion to stroke beautifully against the already oozing head.

“Mmm, oh yeah. . .” Tom moaned, settling back against the seat as he prepared for his second fantastic orgasm of the day.

Bill's fingers moved up and down in a lazy fashion, warming the flesh up to the friction before he moved a little faster, adding a little squeeze and twist maneuver that made Tom's eyes pop open.

“Bill. . .” He gasped.

Bill was nearly across Tom's lap, face inches from his, watching his brother's expression with big, dark eyes. He tongued from one lip ring to the other in concentration, still hoping he was doing everything right despite Tom's multiple praises.

Tom reached out to clutch onto Bill's hip, squeezing harder each time Bill's fingers touched him just right. He moaned affirmatives, “Yes. . . Oh, Bill. . . that's good. . .”

Suddenly, Bill slid off his knees and Tom gasped in a breath as Bill's hand left him for a good five seconds. He reached out his hands for the suddenly fleeting pleasure, only to feel his stomach turn with pleasure when Bill situated himself between Tom's spread thighs, his mouth right in line with Tom's hard, needy dick.

“You like getting sucked, don't you, baby?” Bill parroted Tom's earlier question.

Tom gazed down at him, clasping his hands on each of Bill's cheeks to eagerly direct him forward. He nodded weakly and urged his hips toward Bill's mouth. The head nudged against Bill's lips, but Bill turned his mouth away, instead letting the hard, hot flesh rub against his cheek.

“Say it.” He murmured, his eyes smoldering up at Tom.

“Bill, come on. . .” Tom groaned, sinking his fingers into Bill's hair.

Bill resisted the pull of Tom's grasp on his hair and pressed his cheek harder against the throbbing and aching shaft, “Say it, Tomi. Say you like it when I suck your cock.”

Tom bit his lower lip an drew in a calming breath. He had already employed this tactic on Bill before, so he couldn't argue with Bill turning the teasing questioning back on him.

“I. . .” He rasped, pressing his head against the seat and squeezing his eyes shut, “I like it . . . when you suck me. . .”

“Mmm.” Bill hummed a pleased note and lifted his head to lick a thick stripe up the underside of Tom's cock.

Tom twitched and groaned louder, “Bill. . .”

Bill's tongue reached the tip and he swirled his tongue around the head. He lapped up the arousal gathering there and smacked his lips.

“Say. . .” He squinted his eyes as if thinking deeply, “Say 'suck me, Bibi.'”

Tom lifted his head, frowning, “Hey, you said you didn't like-”

“I changed my mind.” Bill replied, blinking innocently, “Say it, Tomi. Please?”

Tom chewed fiercely at his lower lip. He wanted to argue that they didn't have time to play games while the party was still going on, but in reality, he didn't give a fuck about the party. Not anymore. Not with Bill knelt between his legs, ready to go down.

Tom clutched Bill's hair harder and dragged his brother's mouth up against his needy, pulsing cock, “Suck me, Bibi.” He growled, practically force-feeding Bill his cock, “Suck it good and hard.”

Bill groaned as Tom's cock slid into his mouth, as much as he could take without choking with the first thrust. He tightened his lips around the shaft and began to suck ardently, keeping his gaze fixed on Tom's face.

Tom closed his eyes as the pleasure quickly rose up to consume him, tides of pleasure crashing against his body each time Bill's mouth took him in. He had never felt so much saliva in someone's mouth before; maybe that was his imagination . . . He didn't know if everything he was feeling with Bill could possibly be real anymore, he just knew it was too good to stop.

He kept his fingers laced in Bill's hair, his hips pulsing softly against the hot, wet pressure of Bill's mouth, reaching for the pleasure as fast as he could get it. Bill didn't disappoint, and although he claimed to be so inadequate when it came to blowjobs, Tom couldn't have disagreed more. The thing with girls was, they never wanted to suck a guy off until he came; they wanted to suck it and then finish it with the hand or pussy. But Bill. . . Bill was willing to go all the way, and that alone was enough to have Tom coming everywhere.

Tom could feel a spectacular orgasm rising up in his loins and he was ready to sit back and enjoy the next few moments as it built to completion. But, just as he was really settling into position, legs wide spread, feet planted into the floor, Bill did it again.

He went down.

All the fucking way down.

Tom nearly screamed as Bill swallowed him whole, the soft, plush interior of his mouth giving way to to the tight squeeze of his throat. The muscles flexed around Tom's cock at the tip and Bill's lips squeezed in a tight seal around the base; everything in between was embraced in a hot, wet sensation like his dick was sitting in a hot tub with the jets on full blast.

This time, he didn't even have time to warn Bill before the cum raced up his dick and the spasms took over. Bill pulled back, but he didn't let Tom out of his mouth. Instead, he let the hot, slick release pour over his tongue, and he swallowed – yes, he actually fucking swallowed it, if Tom's eyes could be believed. Tom watched from barely open eyes as his body convulsed under Bill's deft touch and his cock poured a heavy load of semen into Bill's mouth. It was an almost surreal, out-of-body experience, watching his body thrashing against the seat of the Audi while Bill sucked it all down his beautiful, talented throat.

At last, Tom's body stilled against the seat and he panted hard, trying to catch his breath; and where the hell did his dignity and composure go? He had never allowed someone to take control of him like that, even if it were something as simple as asking to be sucked off. In bed, Tom Kaulitz gave the orders, and didn't follow a single one. But Bill was different, as he was learning, with just about everything. And maybe, despite the palpitations of his heart, it wasn't such a bad thing.

Bill plucked a tissue from the package and daintily wiped his lips. A bit had poured out of the corners and gone down his neck, and Bill dabbed at the excess as if what he had just done was no great feat.

Tom reached out and grabbed Bill by the head, dragging his brother to his chest. He planted a firm kiss on Bill's head, “God, I love you.”

Bill chuckled softly and patted his chest, “I love you too,” He said, his voice muffled, “But you're suffocating me.”

Tom loosened his grip and smiled down at Bill's charmingly innocent expression, “We should get back to the party, pronto.”

“I know.” Bill giggled, searching around for his clothes, “I didn't mean for it to take so long.”

Tom found his phone amongst the clothes and checked the time. It was nearly an hour since he had left the table; it would be a little difficult coming up with an excuse, but Tom could hardly bring himself to care. The night was looking up, and he thought he could make it to the end. Best of all, he had almost completely forgotten about Ria. Almost.

 


	4. Scared (That's Why I Can't Have You)

The board meeting was long and miserably boring.

Bill sat through the first half with his chin propped on his knuckles, trying valiantly to pay attention to what the producers, managers, and promoters were saying about the new album. Normally, he was very attentive in these types of meetings, ready to jump in and comment at any given moment if he disagreed or had a new suggestion to make, but today was different. Today, Tom was seated across the table from him, looking absolutely delectable.

His brother had his loose, dark hair pulled back in a bun at his nape, and his beard was trimmed back close to his strong jawline. He wore a gray, v-neck shirt that revealed a mouth-watering portion of his muscular, tanned chest. A white, button-up shirt was thrown over the gray one, giving a sharp contrast to his bronzed skin. A little, gold chain circled his throat and rested teasingly against his collarbones and drawing Bill's eyes to the fine length of Tom's throat.

This outfit was neither exciting nor revolutionary as Bill's often were, but Bill couldn't resist staring, given that he finally knew what treasure lay underneath.

At last, Tom seemed to feel Bill's eyes on him. He tilted his head to the side and toyed with one of his gauges as he stared across the table at Bill. His eyes were dark and intense, weighed with just as much need as Bill's. He licked his lips slowly, making a show of moistening the flesh and flicking his lip ring back and forth.

Bill shuddered and looked down at the plain, tan surface of the table, trying to avert the pleasure that so quickly swelled inside him. He felt like he was sixteen again, battling constant boners when Tom barely brushed up against him.

Someone addressed the twins from the head of the table, and they were momentarily distracted by business talk. Bill repeated what had been said in his head, hoping that the information wouldn't flee with a simple glance from Tom. When the producers' eyes were off the twins, Bill let his glance slide back to Tom. Tom shifted in his chair, turning to fully face Bill. His dark brown eyes dug into Bill, silently making Bill's insides twist and turn with desire. Bill squirmed like he had ants in his pants, clamping his mouth shut to hold back any number of pathetic sounds from escaping.

Suddenly, Bill felt Tom's foot nudge up against his. The toe of Tom's tennis shoe pushed against the inner curve of Bill's foot, practically shoving it to respond. Hitching in a quiet breath, Bill turned his foot against Tom's, riding the toe of his heeled boot up against Tom's ankle. Tom's foot lithely arched away and snapped back down, pinning Bill's toe to the floor.

Bill lifted his eyes to Tom's, feeling as if his face were on fire. Tom gazed back, his eyes twitching narrower, his tongue pushing hard against his lip ring. Bill could see his brother's chest heaving in silent, yet exhilarated breaths.

They were playing fucking footsie in a board meeting. It couldn't get any more juvenile, and yet Bill couldn't think of anything more arousing at the moment.

Tom's foot pulled back, letting Bill's up. Bill's foot darted forward, catching Tom's just as it retreated to his side of the table. He pressed his toes down hard as Tom resisted, digging the thick sole of his boot into Tom's toes. Tom bit his lip and let his foot go lax under Bill's. Their gazes clashed for several moments before Bill withdrew his foot. His heart was pounding as he nudged his boot off his foot. He extended his sock-clad foot and shimmied it softly up Tom's calf.

Tom's eyes widened and Bill watched the crimson flush climb his cheeks as Bill's toes curled against the inside of his knee. Tom's eyes flicked toward the important suits officiating the meeting, probably wondering if anyone had noticed the twins' strange behavior. Bill ignored it all; he stretched his long leg across the space between them, shoving his stocking foot in between Tom's legs. He pushed back baggy material until his toes curled around the hard, hot flesh between Tom's thighs.

Tom bit down harder on his lip and clamped his legs together, trying to stop Bill's questing foot, but Bill was already too far. He rubbed his foot against Tom's crotch despite the resistance of his brother's legs. He cradled Tom's hardening dick in the curve of his foot, then drew his foot down, pressing the hard ball of his foot into the throbbing lump. Tom nearly rose from his chair, his lips parting to draw in a sharp breath.

“Tom? Bill?”

They both looked up sharply when they heard Jost saying their names. Their manager looked at them expectantly. Bill blinked, realizing he had missed something vital.

“I'm sorry . . . what?” He stuttered, trying not to appear too frazzled.

“We were just asking . . .” Jost repeated, his brow furrowing.

He went on to ask them something small about the album cover, and Bill was relieved he could answer with a simple nod of his head rather than trusting his voice to speak.

Bill kept his foot between Tom's legs the entire time, not willing to let that position go even if they could get in trouble. Tom's hand sneaked under the table and pinched Bill's toes, but Bill ignored the pain. He twisted his foot out of Tom's grip and resumed rubbing against his brother's groin when they were no longer required to answer questions.

Tom dug his thumb into the curve of Bill's foot, sending pain shooting up his ankle. Bill withdrew his foot instinctively, trying to rearrange his face so as not to register the pain. Tom smirked across the table at him.

Bill placed his foot back on the floor and slid it around the carpet, searching for the placement of Tom's feet. He was surprised when he found Tom's tennis shoes each planted wide, practically inviting Bill's foot back between his spread legs.

 _Fuck. . ._ Bill swallowed hard.

He looked up at Tom through his lashes, hoping he wasn't blushing too hard. Tom arched an eyebrow, as if questioning Bill's courage. Bill frowned and pushed his foot back onto Tom's chair, nudging his toes immediately against Tom's balls. Tom grimaced, but kept his face placid. His only tell was the color rising on his cheeks while Bill slowly, thoroughly fondled Tom's balls and hard cock with his toes.

Bill was starting to seriously wonder if Tom was going to jizz himself right in the board meeting when Tom's hand came down to grab his foot again. Tom's big, strong hand surrounded his foot, pulling it up onto his thigh. His other hand reached down to stroke against Bill's ankle, soft little caresses that tickled like mad. Bill grabbed onto the arms of his chair and tried not to twist around and shout as Tom's fingertips teased against the soft, thin flesh over his ankle bone, and dipped under Bill's sock to stroke against the inner curve of his foot. Bill curled his foot, trying to yank it out of Tom's grip while not revealing to everyone else what was happening under the table.

“All right, everyone. One last question and then we're done for the day.” Hoffman said from the head of the table.

Tom let go and Bill quickly retrieved his foot. He quickly shoved it back into his shoe as the meeting wrapped up. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to dispel what was sure to be a full, red flesh on his face. His heart was pounding and his own crotch was hard. He lowered a discreet hand to adjust himself within the tight confines of his jeans, hoping no one would notice when they stood up to leave.

Finally, everyone was filing out of the room. Jost stopped by Bill and leaned down to murmur in his ear, “I don't know what is going on with you two, but this is the last meeting before the album goes on sale. I think you need to pay attention.”

Bill lowered his head, feeling like a kid in school, getting in trouble with the teacher. He nodded his head.

“Sorry, David. We'll try harder.”

“Good.” Jost patted his back, “This is important, Bill. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of that.”

“No, I want this as much as everyone else.” Bill whispered back.

Jost nodded, “Then show us that you do.”

His manager left the room before Bill could argue that he _did_ want the album and the following tour; he was just really fucking distracted right now and it wasn't his fault. It was Tom's, damn him.

They rose from their chairs and circled the table. Tom fell into step with Bill.

“What was that?”

“He knows we were distracted.” Bill replied, quietly, “Of course. It's David.”

“Yeah.” Tom shrugged, “But he doesn't know anything, so ignore him. You know, he gets bitchy right before album sale starts.”

Bill shrugged, hardly convinced. They had been playing a simple game of footsie and everyone could tell. What would happen when they finally consummated their relationship for real? Would everyone see the stain of arousal on Bill's cheeks, hear the wild thumping of his heart, and notice the sheen of sweat on his forehead every fucking time Tom just looked at him? Because Bill knew that's how it would be; he wouldn't be able to look Tom in the eye without thinking of Tom's cock. _In_ him.

They rode the elevator down to street level. As they were crossing the lobby to the exiting revolving doors, Bill crept his hand into his pocket, fidgeting with the pack of cigarettes resting there. He really needed one after the ordeal of the meeting, the footsie, David's comments. It was too much to handle in one day – their careers _and_ Tom.

As they were passing through the revolving doors, Bill looked up just in time to see a petite, yet angry looking woman storming toward the building. Doing a violent double-take, he realized, with horror, that the little, enraged woman was, in fact, Ria Sommerfeld.

Bill came to a halt on the sidewalk, cigarettes frozen in his hand. Tom almost slammed into him, uttering an irritated sound right before he realized what Bill was staring at.

Ria marched toward them, her face pinched and flushed with anger.

“Tom Kaulitz!” She shouted, drawing the attention of nearly everyone on the sidewalk, “Tom, you fucking bastard. We need to talk!”

In an instant, the hot, aroused blood singing through Bill's veins came to a cold halt. His fingers curled around the cigarettes as fear hit like a shaft right through the middle of his chest and into his heart. He didn't want to believe it, but in his heart, he knew why Ria was so mad. She knew, God she knew.

Tom stepped forward, nearly pushing Bill to the side, “Ria, what is this?”

“It's about you and me.” She said, venomously. She came to stop just inches from Tom, simmering up at him with dark eyes, arms crossed. She cut her withering gaze to Bill, “And _him._ ”

Bill took a step back. His once vibrant erection was shriveled into nothing, and his stomach was doing sick turns instead of aroused cartwheels. He felt as if everyone on the street were staring right at them, hearing every word Ria said.

“Ria, can we talk somewhere private?” Tom asked, his voice sounding frail and panicked.

Bill looked over at him, seeing Tom's once flushed face now turning a pale, blanched pallor.

Ria glared up at him, “I don't fucking care, as long as the two of you are there.”

“Okay. Let's go back inside.” Tom said, weakly.

The three of them filed back into the record company building, each walking in tense silence. Tom took them to the elevator and pressed the button. The doors slid open and they stepped inside.

The ride back up to their floor seemed much longer than Bill had ever experienced. He stood stiffly against the wall, wanting to throw up as the little box swayed them back and forth. The quiet, happy strains of elevator music grated against the tension filling the elevator.

No one spoke or even moved until the doors opened. Tom led the way down the hall, taking them back to the quiet privacy of the conference room the Tokio Hotel team had just vacated. Once inside, Tom shut the door loudly, closing the three inside with finality.

He turned slowly and did his best to look Ria in the eye, “Okay, you have my attention. What's going on.”

Ria marched toward him, simmering with anger, “All along, you told me it was because of the band, because you couldn't fully commit to me. Now I know the truth.”

Tom gazed down at her, his panic barely concealed by a veneer of control, “The truth?”

“You told me you didn't want to get married or take the next step, or whatever else, because of this fucking band.” She snapped, “But the truth is that it's _him!_ ”

She spun around and pointed a condemning finger at Bill, causing Bill to draw back as if physically assaulted. Her dark eyes were blazing with anger, so hot they could have melted Bill's trembling body right where he stood. He knew exactly what she was implying, but could only hope she meant their brotherly bond.

“You're the one that ended it, not Bill.” Tom replied, sharply.

“But I ended it, because I knew you weren't faithful to me.” She growled, turning back to the older twin, “For years, I tried to convince myself that you were really in love with me, that you just needed time to grow up and accept commitment. I waited for you, Tom. I waited because I thought I loved you. Now I come to find out that it was all a lie.”

Her voice cracked a bit at the end, but she managed to hold it together. Blinking back hot tears she covered her face with her hands, “Why didn't you just end it a long time ago?”

“I do love you . . .” Tom said softly, “I _did_. . .”

“But not anymore.” She said, her voice growing cold again, “You love him . . . Your own brother.”

Tom swallowed hard, “You know what you're implying sounds-”

“I know how it sounds.” She said, her voice rising suddenly. She took a step forward, quivering with anger, “I know how it looks too, Tom.”

Bill's and Tom's eyes met across the room, panicked by the implication that Ria had _seen_ it; she was claiming to have seen their incest.

“Ria, I don't know-”

“Yes you do.” She held up a finger, “You know exactly what I'm talking about. . . .” Her voice dropped to a bare, harsh whisper, “The party. I came to save face for you, and then I realize you're out in the parking lot doing . . . you're with . . .” Her voice crumbled and fresh tears streaked down her cheeks.

Bill felt his heart drop to his shoes. He felt horrible for the entire encounter with Ria, knowing she had gone through so much, but he was far more terrified by the possibility of her knowing the truth . . . and what she might do with the information.

“You're. . . you're telling me you saw us . . . in the parking lot?” Tom questioned, his tone urgent and splintered with fear.

“I saw Bill leave the party.” She replied, steadying her voice, “When I left, I walked past the car and I saw you inside. I thought it was odd, since it was Bill's car, but I was angry that you were moving on so quickly after our break up . . . Then, this morning, I was trying to find you because I left some things at your house, and I talked with Andreas. He mentioned to me that neither of you ever returned to the party until like an hour later. And all came together.” She threw her hands up, her eyes wide and tearful, “Everything made sense. Your fear of commitment, all the nights you couldn't make love to me, why I felt like you were leaving me . . . that way you always looked at him, and not me . . . I can't believe I was so blind.”

Silence fell across the room. Ria was staring at Tom with wet, hurting eyes, waiting for him to either deny or confirm her theory, waiting for him to finally tell her the truth. Tom gazed at the floor, wondering how the hell they were gonna get out of this, and Bill gazed between them both, wondering if this was all his fucking fault.

At last, Tom spoke, his voice quiet and weak, “I won't lie to you . . . You're right. We were in the car, and I do have certain feelings . . .”

“Oh my god . . .” Ria murmured and turned her face away, shedding another quiet tear.

It was one thing to storm into this building angry and searching for answers, quite another to leave it with the truth, but one so shocking it was difficult to ever feel the same about the situation again.

“I'm sorry.” Tom added, “For hurting you, or making you feel like I didn't love you. But this _is_ the truth – I did love you, and with all my heart, I wanted it to work out. But, um . . . I guess you don't get to choose who you fall in love with.”

“Most people choose someone other than their own brother.” She lashed out, taking a step toward him, “You're sick, Tom. Both of you.” She cut her withering gaze to Tom, “You're fucked up in the head, and I should tell everyone in the world exactly what you're doing.”

“No!” Bill suddenly broke the silence he had been keeping since they entered the room. He took a step forward, nearly inserting himself between Tom and Ria, “Please, you can't do that.”

“I could.” She replied, tersely, glaring up at him.

“But you can't.” He insisted, shaking his head, “What if someone told you, you couldn't be with the person you loved more than anyone else in this world? What if you were shunned and rejected by everyone because you loved someone? You can't do this, Ria!”

Her icy glare melted a bit and she glanced away. Her foot tapped anxiously as she vacillated between her options.

“I would do anything for my brother.” Bill whispered, “I mean anything. And that's not just because I love him . . . the unorthodox way. It's because he's my twin and we're connected in every way. Can't you see that? You could never rip us apart, even if if you tried. And you don't really want to, do you? You're just angry, aren't you? You want to hurt him for hurting you.”

Ria's eyes flicked back up to Bill's pleading ones, “Yes.”

“But, please, this isn't the way. We've told you the truth.” Bill urged, “Let the hurt and pain be over now.”

She shook her head and cast disbelieving eyes at him, “You really do believe in that true love shit, don't you?”

Before either man could make a further comment, she turned on her heel and left the room, allowing the door to bang shut behind her. Bill let out a breath and sank to one of the chairs that was arranged around the table. Worried, sick tears pressed behind his eyelids, but he dug his knuckles into his eyes to hold them back.

Tom was quiet for long moments, and Bill could only imagine what was going through his brother's head right now. It had to be the worst break-up in dating history, being dumped by your girl and then having her find out your dirty laundry, with the possibility of her spreading it out for everyone to see.

“What if she tells?” Bill whispered, his heart clutched by an icy fist of fear, “What if everyone finds out? The producers, the promoters, our record label . . . our _fans?_ ” He lifted his head and turned to look at Tom, “What if it's all over because-”

“Stop.” Tom cut in, holding up a hand, “Just stop right there, Bill. Right now, it's only a possibility. I'll go talk to her again if I have to, but I'm not letting this ruin us.”

Bill bit his lower lip and nodded, “Okay.”

“We should get back home.” Tom said, rubbing his hands over his face, “It's been a long-ass day.”

 

~

 

A few hours later, the tension was still high in the Kaulitz house.

Bill did his best to still interact with Tom, but he felt as if his twin was pulling away from him. It had happened before, but never over something so personal and intimate. He hated feeling closed off from Tom, as if that invisible connection between them had snapped, no longer holding them intact. The energy and need that had sparked between them during the board meeting was gone, replaced by cold resentment.

Was Tom mad at him? Bill wondered. Did he blame Bill for their being found out? It had been Bill's idea to do it in the car, after all. Though Tom was just as much to blame for agreeing to the tryst, Bill wouldn't be surprised if Tom placed the blame solely on Bill's shoulders.

At last, Bill could stand it no longer. With a heavy heart, he went to Tom's bedroom door and knocked quietly.

“What?” Tom asked, his voice low and irritated.

“It's me. Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

Bill pushed the door open and slid inside. Tom was sitting on his bed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, his laptop resting on his thighs. He didn't seem to be getting much work accomplished, though, considering the bag of chips resting on his crotch and his phone in his hand.

Bill walked quietly across the room and sat down next to him, “What's wrong?”

“What do you mean?” Tom asked, his brows furrowing, “I just found out my ex knows I like to fuck my brother. What could be wrong?”

Bill glanced away, feeling his heart constrict with pain. He stared at his lap and murmured, “Why are you avoiding me? Are you mad at me?”

Tom gave a loud sigh and set his laptop and the bag of chips aside, “No, Bill. I'm not mad at you. I just need some space.”

Bill nodded, weakly, “Really? Because I feel like I need you now more than ever.”

He glanced up and their eyes connected briefly before Tom looked away. Bill could see the confusion and turmoil resting clearly in his dark brown eyes. When Tom didn't know what to do, when he wasn't in control, he retreated into this shell of himself that allowed everyone else to only see his armor, the walls he put up to protect himself. He was trying to be strong, because he had always been the one to take care of the two of them, but he didn't realize he was hurting Bill more.

“Can I just sit with you?” Bill asked, his voice bordering on a whine.

Tom bit his lower lip and gazed at the opposite wall, as if contemplating the request. Bill slid closer, reaching out to wrap his fingers around Tom's.

“Please, I need you.” He whispered.

Tom sighed, “Okay.”

Bill eagerly climbed the rest of the way onto the bed and curled up against Tom's side. He was far too old to be crawling in bed with his older brother, too old to be crying about the situation he had created, too old to not be dealing with it himself. But he had always needed Tom like he needed air to breathe; he couldn't exist without his brother taking care of him, remembering the details he didn't, making sure Bill was well fed, well slept, that he was happy.

It was the simple things that Tom did for him that made Bill so dependent on his brother. Where would he be without Tom reminding him where they put the pasta in the refrigerator, where his keys were, whether the clothes were in the washing machine or not, if he had brushed his teeth before bed, when the hell that next meeting was, and if they were supposed to have band practice that night? His whole life revolved around Tom. What was he supposed to do if he lost that guidance and care?

Bill snuggled closer to Tom and felt Tom's arm tighten around him just a little. Tom never resisted long under Bill's pleading and cuddling and for that, Bill was grateful. He needed Tom right now, even if Tom didn't realize they both did.

Bill slid his hand across Tom's chest, feeling out the firm, warm planes and dragging himself up against Tom. He pressed his mouth into the stubbled curve of Tom's jaw, kissing softly along the flesh until he reached Tom's earlobe. His tongue darted through the gauge, dragging jewelry and all into his mouth. Tom flinched away from him, pulling his ear of Bill's grip.

“Bill . . .” he began, his tone warning, “Bill, stop . . .”

Bill ignored Tom's tone of voice and pressed closer, dragging his legs over Tom's until he was straddling his brother's shins. He ducked his head down as he lifted Tom's tank top and began to lick up against his stomach, tasting the hard, muscled flesh and enjoying the way it quivered under his touch. He pulled at the sweatpants, trying to drag them down away from Tom's cock.

Suddenly, Tom grabbed Bill by the shoulders and pushed him off. Bill fell backwards off the bed and landed hard on his ass.

“I said, stop!” Tom yelled, rising from the bed.

Bill gazed up at him, feeling sudden tears fill his eyes, “Tom, wait. . .”

Tom stomped around him, heading for the door, “When I tell you to fucking stop, you stop!” He pointed his finger at Bill's crestfallen expression, “Don't fucking come onto me after what happened, you idiot.”

“Tom, I'm sorry. . .”

Bill scrambled off the floor, following his brother closely as Tom stormed out of the room and headed downstairs.

“Tom, please, wait. . .” He pleaded, his voice choked with emotion.

Tom kept walking, taking them down the stairs and into the hallway that led to the front door. When he reached the door, he pulled the closet open and found a pair of flip flops. Bill watched with growing sadness and panic as Tom grabbed his keys off the table by the door.

“Where are you going?” Bill insisted.

“I need some air.” Tom snapped, reaching for the doorknob.

Bill thrust himself between Tom and the door, blocking Tom's exit. Tom's eyes widened with anger, but Bill glared at him defiantly.

“Get the hell out of my way.” Tom insisted.

“No. You need to talk to me.” Bill replied, firmly, “We have always been able to talk about things! I don't want you to cut me off again.”

“I don't want to fucking talk, ok?” Tom shouted, smacking his palm loudly against the door right next to Bill's head, “I'm done with this talking shit! The last time I 'talked' to you, I ended up throwing you over a bed and beating the shit out of you.”

“And you regret that?” Bill cried, leaning forward so that their faces were inches apart, “Because I sure as hell don't, Tom! I don't care if Ria found out, or if we're in danger of being discovered! I sure as hell don't give a shit if people think it's wrong! You know why, Tom? Because I love you. I fucking love you, and I won't give it up one more time!”

Tom pushed away from the door and scraped his hands through his hair, breathing loudly, angrily.

“Tom, please.” Bill reached out a hand to him, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bill, but we can't do this.” Tom said, spinning to face him. There was fierce determination in his eyes that scared Bill, “We can't do this, okay? It's too dangerous, not to mention wrong on every level.”

Bill felt as if someone had just punched him in the stomach. He sagged against the door, feeling his breathing coming fast and shallow, almost hyperventilating. He was crying, that was for sure, tears pouring down his cheeks like a rainstorm.

“No, Tom.” He shook his head, “I love you, and that's all that should matter.”

“But that's not true, Bill!” Tom shouted, throwing his hands up, “That's the stupid little fantasy world you're living in! Just because it feels right doesn't mean it is. And this is not right! It's wrong, and it needs to end right here.”

“You don't really believe that do you?” Bill cried, “Not after everything that's happened? What we've done. . . what we've shared . . .”

“I believe that I need to protect you.” Tom replied, his voice softening, “And this is the only way how. You're like a dumb animal sometimes that just needs herding in the right direction, and I'm going to take us in the right direction even if it hurts.”

Bill ignored the rather blatant insult Tom had just thrown at him in favor of feeling the sting of Tom's meaning. Tom was always out to protect him, but this time, his brother was wrong. He was dead wrong.

“Please, don't leave.” Bill whispered, gazing up at Tom with tear-filled eyes, “Don't leave me here alone.”

Tom sighed and threw his keys back one the table, “I'll stay, but no more fooling around, okay?”

Tom cradled Bill's cheeks in his hands and pressed a warm kiss to his forehead. Bill stared at the ground, hardly returning Tom's affection because this kind of brotherly love wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to lift his mouth and let the kisses fall on his lips instead. He wanted to feel Tom's hands all over his body and inside him, working the best pleasure that he had ever felt out of him. But he also wanted Tom to stay inside the house tonight; right now, it seemed, that was all he could hope for.

“We're gonna be okay, Bibi.” Tom whispered, wiping Bill's tears away with his thumbs, “We're gonna be just fine.”

Bill twisted out of Tom's grip, fighting back a fresh wave of tears, “Don't call me that.”

Before Tom could protest, he made a dash for the stairs and didn't stop running until he was inside his room, the door shut and locked behind him. If he couldn't have Tom the way he wanted, in the most intimate way possible, he didn't want to have him at all.

 

 


	5. Conflicted (That's Why I Reject You)

A light breeze coming through the window and the delicious scents of fresh coffee and flowers battling to overpower each other coaxed Bill awake to face what was bound to be another grueling day. With a quiet moan, he rolled over in his bed. He felt the sheets tug lower around his waist, losing the battle against a severe morning erection. With a weary sigh, he reached down to touch himself; if Tom wasn't going to do it for him anymore, he would have to take care of it himself.

“Good morning.”

Bill jolted in the bed, yanking his hand away from his throbbing cock. With a startled gasp, he looked up to see Tom standing in the doorway, arms folded across his bare chest. He was hardly dressed, wearing just his boxers. They were gray and white camouflage that looked really good against his tanned skin. Bill bit his lower lip as he gathered the sheets over his morning wood.

“Sorry. I didn't see you.”

“It's okay.” Tom shrugged, as if it were nothing, when just a few days ago, he had been taking control of Bill's climaxes, “I just came to tell you, I have coffee and breakfast.”

Bill frowned and tilted his head to the side, “Since when did you get up before me?”

“I had a meeting.” Tom replied, then turned and walked back down the hall before Bill could press him for details.

Grumbling under his breath about Tom's behavior, Bill got up out of bed to find something suitable to wear to breakfast. He put on a pair of loose gym shorts and threw an undershirt on, still trying to get the niggling of need out of the forefront of his mind. Before all this had started, he had been perfectly content with rubbing himself off every morning; now he was doing his best not to thinking about morning time pleasure because he simply couldn't bear the idea of going at it alone anymore.

Bill unplugged his phone and trudged downstairs to face the day. He didn't turn his phone on yet, not quite ready to be accosted by the texts and emails he was sure had slammed his inbox since last night.

Tom had breakfast set out on the counter and was pouring mugs of coffee when Bill made it to the table. He sat down at one of the stools and let his phone clatter to the surface. Staring Tom down, he waited for his brother to say something . . . anything about their conversation last night.

“So,” Bill instigated conversation when it appeared Tom was unwilling, “You had a meeting?”

Tom carried their coffee to the counter and set the mugs down. He leaned his elbows on the counter and nodded, “With Ria.”

“What?” Bill sputtered, “Wait, did you ask her to meet, or did she? What did she say?”

“I asked her to meet.” Tom replied, “We had a long, surprisingly civil conversation about the whole thing. She agreed not to take it to the press or anyone.”

“How very kind of her.” Bill replied, sarcastically.

“Actually, it is.” Tom's eyes flashed, “We could have been in a lot of trouble, you know that. Just remember it the next time you want to take big risks and live on the wild side.”

“Oh, so now you're lecturing me.” Bill muttered under his breath, giving his eyes a roll for good measure.

“Hey, lose the attitude. I'm the one that went to Ria and acted like the adult in the whole situation.” Tom snapped, “I might have saved our asses. What did you do, huh? You got the whole thing started by wanting to fuck in the car.”

“You said if I thought of a place you would go with me.” Bill replied, sharply, “Remember that? Or did my fantastic blowjob somehow wipe your memory?”

“I may be just as guilty as you, but at least I realize we need to stop before anything else goes wrong.” Tom said, his voice low, “Just drop it, Bill. It's over.”

Tom grabbed his coffee and left the kitchen, letting his food grow cold on the table. Bill stared at the counter, all thoughts of pleasure and morning erections gone. His throat felt like it was tied in a huge knot, but he refused to cry again. He had endured rejection before; he could do it again. He just had to find a way to stop arguing with Tom for one moment so that they could get back on the right track. They had always been so connected, from childbirth through adulthood, but it seemed when they were so close to being connected in the most intimate, tangible way, they were drifting farther apart.

It killed Bill inside to know that he had nearly had what he wanted within his grasp. Instead, all he had was a few, juvenile incidents in which he sucked on Tom's cock. It was high school shit, the kind of things kids did in the back of cars because they didn't know how to do anything else. He wasn't anything special; just another fling.

With a growl of hurt and frustration, Bill swiped his hand across the counter, striking one of the plates and causing it to run into the other. Both dishes flew off the counter, spraying breakfast everywhere before they lost momentum and shattered on the ground. Ignoring the huge mess he had just made, Bill slammed his fists down on the counter and lowered his head to the surface, fighting back breathless tears.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?”

Tom's alarmed shout drifted through the doorway, and soon, his twin was marching back into the kitchen, looking furious. He took one look at the scattered food and broken plates and burst out, “Bill, what the fuck?”

Bill lifted his head from the counter, but simply stood there crying, hardly able to catch his breath around the wrenching sobs.

Tom picked his way across the broken glass and reached Bill's side. He grabbed Bill by the arm and pulled him around, forcing Bill to look at him.

“What are you doing?”

“I don't know. . .I don't know. . .” Bill blubbered, keeping his head down as he scrambled for a few threads of dignity, “Tom, I'm sorry. . . I didn't mean to make a mess . . .”

“Don't worry about it.” Tom insisted.

He drew Bill into his arms, holding his sobbing brother tight against his chest and rocking him gently. He stroked Bill's disheveled blond hair and murmured to him, “It's okay. I'm sorry for upsetting you. I shouldn't have been so short with you.”

Bill clung to Tom, burying his face in Tom's neck as he waited for the forceful crying to subside. He felt pathetic, throwing a childlike tantrum and sobbing like a baby, but he couldn't stop the waves of emotion that continued crashing over him. He just didn't want to be another fling, another hook up that Tom fingered in the back seat before moving on to the next person. He didn't want to be forgotten.

 

~

 

Several minutes later, after Bill had wiped his eyes and they had both calmed down, they got down on the floor to pick up the broken plates and spattered food.

Tom's chest was tight with an acute mixture of worry and apprehension. He would do anything for his brother, and it really hurt him, down to the bottom of his heart, when he found out he was the one that made Bill cry. He had thought he was doing the right thing cutting it off with Bill, but Bill's reaction had been so intense . . . so heartbroken. Tom didn't know if he could do it. Breaking things off with Ria for good this morning hadn't hurt this much; this was his Bill, his brother, the younger, the one he had looked out for since they were kids. They often teased each other that Bill wouldn't be able to get going in the morning without Tom there to make him coffee; but maybe their joking was more true than they realized. Maybe they needed each other for a lot more than coffee.

“I'm really sorry.” Bill muttered as he carefully plucked shards of broken china off the floor and threw them in the wastebasket, “I don't know what came over me.”

“It's okay.” Tom murmured.

He didn't know what else to say. It was his fucking fault anyhow, being so rude to Bill and practically taking Ria's side in the whole matter. He'd been trying to make a clean break, but instead, he had broken Bill. What a fucking mess.

“We're gonna have to get a service in here to detail clean this kitchen now.” Bill said, trying to make a joke. He laughed weakly before letting the jab fall flat.

Tom bit his lower lip, concentrating harder than necessary upon gathering the broken bits of plate.

“I was just afraid.” Bill spoke again, this time quietly, as if the sound of his voice might scare Tom away, “I was afraid you would . . . forget.”

“Forget?” Tom asked, though he already guessed what Bill meant.

“What happened between us.” Bill said, “You know, you've had a lot of experiences with girls and sex, Tom. But I haven't. Just this. . .” His looked up at Tom through thick lashes, “Just you. I don't know, maybe it means more to me than it does to you. You can move on and find someone else, but I . . . I think I'm going to be alone forever.” He heaved a weary sigh, “You're the only one I've ever wanted.”

Tom swallowed hard and glanced away. Those words had far greater impact than even the sight of Bill's sobbing. He hadn't really thought about the situation from Bill's perspective, but those two simple words stuck right in his heart, “Just you.”

He'd already taken Bill's virginity, even if it wasn't in the technical sense. He'd taken Bill's first experience of a sexual and loving relationship; it would be forever burned into his brother's memory, more clearly than perhaps any other encounter.

“I'm sorry.” Tom sighed, “I never thought about it that way . . .”

“Of course not.” Bill laughed mirthlessly, “Why should you? You've been doing it since you were fifteen.”

“It wasn't a fling, Bill.” Tom said, interpreting Bill's meaning before he could say it, “It wasn't about just getting off fast and finding my own pleasure. You're my brother; of course I care more about you than that.”

“But it's over now, right?” Bill shrugged, “So I need to get over it.”

Tom didn't meet Bill's eyes. It was just too hard when he could see the pain written so clearly inside them. Instead, he focused on some scrambled eggs that had managed to attach themselves to the refrigerator.

Bill slowly rose from the floor, brushing crumbs off his shorts, “But you know, Tom, someone's going to have to do electroshock therapy on me to make me forget what it was like to be with you.”

“I don't want you to forget.” Tom said, pushing himself up off the floor, “It's not about forgetting. It's about knowing what's best for us. The world is not made for us to be together, Bill. No matter how much you want it to be, or how often you think you can get your way, you can't always have it.”

“How am I supposed to remember and move on at the same time?” Bill asked, quietly, “How am I supposed to find the right person when I have the perfect one right in front of me?”

“I am _not_ perfect.” Tom replied, scornfully, “Far from it. I've royally fucked up and that's why we're standing here having this conversation.”

He walked away before Bill could protest. He knew how all the bells and whistles in Bill's head worked, and to Bill, his older brother was the strongest, most handsome, most caring person on the planet. This, of course, was a lie. Tom was only those things to Bill; no one else.

Tom carried the bag of broken glass outside to discard it directly into the garbage. He didn't want to leave it in the house where someone – most likely Bill – could cut himself. He stuffed the bag into the garbage can, but didn't return to the house. He stood there in the driveway, in his boxers, wondering what the hell he was going to do. He had Bill convinced that he was the best person for him, and once Bill had his heart set on something, it usually happened. Tom, however, was of the belief that this ill-fated relationship needed to end. Sure, it had been fun and exciting to begin with, but in the long run, it was bad for both of them.

When Tom finally found the courage to go back inside, he discovered Bill and a flurry of panting a yipping fluff at his feet, getting ready to take the dogs out. Bill was dressed in gray track pants and a neon blue tank top that fit like a second skin. When he bent down to hook the leashes to the dogs' collars, the materials separated, delivering to Tom a delectable view of Bill's tanned, lower back and the very top of his ass crack. Tom bit his lower lip and quickly looked away, trying to ignore the way his groin tightened.

“I'm going to take the dogs out.” Bill said, giving a needless explanation when Tom said nothing to him.

“Okay.” Tom said, hoping his voice didn't sound too strangled, “Don't be gone too long. I think we have another meeting today.”

Bill gave an impatient sigh, “Whatever it is, it can wait. I'm not in the mood today.”

Tom crossed his arms over his chest and rocked anxiously on his heels, “Right. Me either.”

He had wanted to take Bill since the moment he opened the bedroom door this morning and found his brother with his hand on his hard cock and despite the heat of the argument still simmering between them, Bill's toned little body was calling out to him. Now that Tom had tasted that forbidden fruit, he simply couldn't get enough; it was like some sort of fucking drug.

Bill rose from the floor and pulled the door open. He spoke to the dogs in soothing undertones, gently reigning them in when they all tried to gallop out the door at once. They made it out onto the front deck safely and Tom watched with disappointment as Bill and the dogs jogged down the driveway, turned onto the sidewalk and disappeared.

He hated leaving things unsaid between them, hated feeling like they were at odds. Since childhood, perhaps even before birth, they had been on the same wavelength, practically reading each other's thoughts. The clear image Tom had once possessed of Bill's heart, his mind, desires and motivations, was now blurred like tears before his eyes. There was a sudden, aching gap between them that had never existed before the sexual relationship began. Tom disdained the fresh tide of anger toward his brother that he now found welling up inside him; the last time he had felt this sexually frustrated toward his brother, he had ended up turning Bill over the bed and spanking him hard.

“Fuck.” Tom muttered, clapping a hand over his face as he recalled taking Bill's pants down and doling out the long, hard spankings.

With out further delay, Tom turned and raced up the stairs to his bedroom. With all the dogs out of the house with Bill, he knew there would be no distractions or interruptions. He had could have his one moment of weakness in peace, with the assurance, that if no one knew, it hadn't really happened.

When Tom stepped into the bedroom, he was shaking all over. He shut the door even though no one else was home and dropped to the bed. He sat still for a moment, thinking about what he was about to do, and wondering if it were a good idea. The memory of trying to break things off with Bill was still fresh in his memory; already, he was faltering, regretting his decision . . . no, indulging his desires. That was a lot worse than regret.

The recent image of Bill's bare back clearly revealed above the waist of his track pants cleared all ideas of going back from Tom's mind. Thinking about Bill's bare skin, in that certain place, triggered other thoughts – ones like, spanking that tight, round ass, or humping against it, or even better, thrusting his fingers into that hot, tight space inside him.

Tom threw himself back onto the bed, grappling with his boxers to get them off as fast as possible. He kicked the material off his ankles and took his hard cock in an urgent, none-too-gentle grip. He could feel the blood throbbing madly just beneath the surface, expanding the flesh until it stretched and ached. He bit down on his lower lip and clamped his eyes shut, focusing hard on the feeling of his palm working rapidly over the needy flesh.

He hadn't jacked off in ages; hadn't needed too. But suddenly, he was so hot and bothered, he didn't care if he felt like a high schooler again. He just _needed_ it. The thought of waiting for someone else to touch him just the right way made him even more anxious.

Digging his heels into the bed, Tom worked his hips against his hand in steady, eager thrusts. His fingers worked hard, almost punishing, against his throbbing dick, trying to force the pleasure out faster than it wanted to come. He was sweating and panting, making low, moaning noises in his throat as the pleasure teased at the fringes of his mind, so close yet so far away.

He didn't want to wait. He wanted it now, because the faster it happened, the fewer moments he had to relive and regret later on. He wanted it before he allowed himself to fully enjoy it. He wanted it before he started to slip again, thinking he really did need Bill.

He _didn't_ need Bill. Bill _needed_ Tom to push him away so that Bill found a nice girl, someone he could marry and love for a lifetime. He needed a nudge in the right direction, not Tom shoving into his ass.

Frustrated by his own thoughts, Tom gave a low growl and went at himself even harder. His whole body was throbbing with the need for release, one giant nerve-ending pulsing just for Bill. The memories of destroying Bill's innocence were mixed and muddled, one moment pushing him closer to orgasm, the next running cold water into his firey veins. He all at once hated and wanted it; but most of all he just wanted to come, so that he could forget this little moment of self-indulgence ever happened.

Tom eased up when his flesh began to burn from the intense friction. He drew in a deep breath and let it out, telling himself to relax and just let it happen. Sure, it had been some time since he went at it alone, but he still knew how to get himself off. He was just so worked up, hardly thinking straight.

Rolling onto his side, Tom threw his arm over his eyes and let out a quiet groan. His body ached and burned with pleasure that wouldn't come, and a need that wouldn't subside. All he could think of was Bill, and how lovely his brother looked stretched out beneath him, or kneeling with a mouth full of Tom's cock . . . that Bill could never be anyone else's again. Only Tom's.

Tom reached down and touched his cock, and it felt as if an electrical current went through him. He grabbed on harder, wrapping his fingers fully around the shaft and giving himself a firm pull. With only a few more strokes to the tender, swollen flesh, he felt himself coming. The shudders started down low in his stomach, and expanded rapidly to rattle his entire core. He spasmed hard against the bed, shooting hot, sticky streams of release all over the bed sheets and down his knuckles. He came so hard that his world burst into white noise and an array of orgasmic colors behind his eyelids, and his limbs turned to jelly when he finally ceased to convulse.

He lay against the mattress, completely drained and panting for a proper breath. His cock was tingling and sensitive, and his arms and legs felt like limp noodles. He hadn't come that hard since . . . well, since Bill had sucked him off in the back of the car.

“Shit . . .” Tom muttered.

He picked himself up off the mussed sheets and hunted up some tissues. He was polishing his hand and cock off when he heard the front door open downstairs. Numerous pairs of doggy feet could be heard scampering through the open door, followed by excited woofs and panting. Tom could hear Bill scolding one or more of them in a very sharp tone.

“Fuck. . .” Tom cursed under his breath, wondering which disobedient puppy had flustered their doting daddy this time.

“Tom!” Bill's voice drifted up the stairs.

Tom went into motion, grabbing his boxers up off the floor. He tore a pair of sweatpants out of a drawer, eager to cover himself after what he had just done . . . not that keeping Bill's eyes off the goods would alleviate the remorse.

Just as Tom turned to leave the bedroom, the knob turned and Bill poked his head inside. His cheeks were pink from wind and exercise and he looked distressed.

“Tom, would you please help me with the dogs?”

“What happened?” Tom asked, trying to guide Bill back into the hallway so that he would not see the mess still covering the sheets.

“Oh, Scotty got into all kinds of mud.” Bill complained, “He's the oldest. He should know better, right?”

“Right.” Tom agreed, “But, what have I told you about taking them all out at once?”

“I know, I know, but I just wanted to get it done and over with.” Bill held up his hands, “Oh, well, can you just help me? They've got mud everywhere and. . .”

His voice trailed off as he happened to glance over Tom's shoulder at the bed. Tom felt his stomach drop, because he knew what Bill was seeing. Even from across the room, it was obvious what kind of stains were on the sheets.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, Tom thought Bill would call him out. Instead, Bill flushed rather pink and turned away. He marched back down the hall and disappeared down the stairs. Tom could hear him commanding the dogs to stand still for a damn second, but all he could focus on was the fact that Bill knew. For anyone else, it was quite an assumption to think that Tom had been masturbating to thoughts of Bill, especially after the fight, but his twin knew him better than he knew himself. Tom would bet money that Bill knew exactly what had been going through Tom's mind when he spilled his load all over the bedsheets.

Cursing gruffly, Tom followed Bill down the stairs. As Bill had claimed, the rambunctious band of puppies had dragged quite a bit of mud through the front doors. The twins found wet wash clothes and went about chasing down each playful pup and wiping down their dirt caked paws. Neither of them spoke, but instead focused on the task before them, giving each paw a thorough wipe down.

Tom peeked a glance at Bill as his brother gathered Pumba in his arms and rose from the floor. Bill kissed Pumba's head and cuddled him close, whispering sweet things into the little pug's ear.

Tom pushed himself to his feet and took an uncertain step toward Bill, “Bill . . .”

“Yeah?” Bill asked, barely looking up as he scratched under Pumba's chin.

“Let's not be mad.” Tom said, feeling as if there were a noose around his throat.

A strange look flickered in Bill's eyes. He met Tom's anxious gaze and shrugged, “I don't think you're mad.”

Tom swallowed hard. If he hadn't been convinced before, he was now certain that Bill knew Tom's intention in masturbating.

“Are you . . .?” Tom asked, carefully, “. . .mad?”

Bill pursed his lips and glanced away. Pumba squirmed in his arms, and this time, Bill leaned down to let the pug run in any direction he pleased. Bill straightened and crossed his arms. Tilting his head to one side, he said, “I'm not if you're not.”

Tom shook his head, “That's some answer . . .”

Bill shrugged, “I don't _want_ to be mad, Tom. I want us to be good.”

“Why can't we be?” Tom insisted, “We always were before . . .”

“Look, you can't change the rules of the game and then ask for everything to go back to normal.” Bill said, firmly. His dark eyes flashed, but Tom sensed more frustration than anger this time.

“I'm not-”

“Yes, you are.” Bill cut him off, “You're asking me to forget everything that's happened, and I can't do that, Tom! If I could, I would, because if I'm never going to have what I want again, I don't want the memories torturing me. Because that's what they're doing right now. They're torturing me, and I hate it!”

“I'm sorry!” Tom cried, “I'm sorry for giving you those memories! I wish it had all just never happened, okay?”

Bill took a faltering step back, “You wish . . . you wish it hadn't happened?”

“Yes.” Tom spat, “I wish it never happened because now I can't even look at you without thinking about . . .”

He lost his anger and his breath as Bill gazed at him with wide, sorrowful eyes. His hands hung loosely at his sides and his shoulders sagged, completely defeated.

“All I think about is what we've done. . .” Tom finished, weakly.

“Is that what you were thinking about?” Bill asked, his voice quiet but strong, “You were thinking about me when you were jacking off?”

Tom quickly looked away, feeling his face grow unbearably hot. He didn't have answer that he was willing to speak out loud.

“If you need me that much, why are you rejecting me?” Bill asked, confused.

“Because I love you.” Tom said, sharply, “And that's more important than wanting you. Don't you get it? I just want what's best for you. Someday, you're going to find that girl of your dreams and she's going to be perfect for you, okay? That's all I want.”

“I thought you said my philosophy about love is rubbish.” Bill challenged.

“Rubbish is better than this.” Tom said, motioning between them, “Dreaming about it is better than me ruining it for you.”

“But you're not.” Bill insisted, “You're not ruining anything. It's better than anything, anyone I've ever had before . . . I told you, you're the one I want, Tom. Not some dream girl that might never exist.”

Tom snorted, “Try telling an interviewer that.”

Bill shook his head, sadly, “This isn't about our public lives, Tom. I could care less what people think. I just want us to be happy.”

“Okay, so what would happen if someone did find out? Our public lives are our private lives. We can't ever be together for real without looking over our shoulders, wondering if there's a photographer or a stalker.” Tom insisted, “It's not safe, or logical.”

“You're thinking about this all wrong!” Bill threw his hands up, “If you really care about me, sacrificing a little won't matter. To me, it's worth it to sneak around for the rest of our lives, trying to keep our secret safe, if I have you.”

“But you'll never really have me.” Tom argued, “Not really. We can't go out on a date, or have a wedding, or kids or-”

“I don't care about all that!” Bill burst out. He reached out and grabbed Tom by the shoulders, giving him a shake, “I would have you, Tom. The most important parts of you. Can't you understand that?”

They gazed into each other's eyes, each impassioned and breathing hard.

It struck Tom hard, what Bill was saying. He'd always had Bill, as his twin and a friend, but he didn't want to lose him over a sexual relationship; but maybe he didn't have to. If they loved each other this much, maybe it could work . . . Maybe.

Bill was a dreamer, willing to go out on a limb for something he truly desired. But was Tom that brave?

Tom drew back at the last moment, causing the tension building between them to snap. He grabbed his keys from the table by the door.

“I'm going for a drive.”

This time, he didn't let Bill stop him. He fled the house, his heart pounding, his stomach turning.

He wasn't that brave, today. Maybe he wouldn't ever be.

 

 


	6. Perfect (That's Why I Love You)

Hours after Tom left the house, Bill lay on the couch with Pumba, awaiting his brother's return.

This time, he wasn't crying. He was angry. He was very upset with Tom, because he knew his twin understood exactly what Bill had been trying to tell him . . . but instead of accepting the truth, Tom had chosen to run away.

“Pussy,” Bill muttered to Pumba. He rubbed behind the little pug's ears and pressed his forehead against the velvety one of his beloved pet, “He's just a big pussy, isn't he?”

Pumba wriggled in his grasp and turned toward the window to yip at some movement outdoors that hadn't caught Bill's attention. . . Not exactly the agreement Bill had been searching for.

Bill sighed and leaned into the couch. Sometimes, when he and Tom fought, he texted Georg or Andreas about it for advice, or just for someone to bitch to about his brother's stubborn, hard-headed behavior. But this wasn't something he could text his friends about; it was too personal, and as Tom had so clearly pointed out, too scandalous. Unfortunately, Tom was right in that aspect – but only to a point. Yes, it would be hard to lie to everyone they loved and constantly cover for themselves when normal, female relationships failed to happen. But Bill was convinced that they could make it; they always had before.

When their dad left, they had found a way to consider themselves valuable and worthy.

When teachers refused to instruct them for their appearance, they learned what they needed for life in other ways.

When people told Bill he couldn't sing, or said Tom was too young to play guitar, they refused to give up.

When they carted their equipment to every venue that would take them and hardly anyone showed up to see them perform, they didn't lose hope.

When it seemed that _Schrei_ would never be produced or sold, they didn't stop pushing to finalize the album.

And when Tokio Hotel came out on top as the biggest rock band in Germany, they finally stopped to celebrate all they had accomplished.

It just wasn't in the Kaulitz blood to give up. And Bill definitely was not willing to give up on the thing he valued most in life - his brother, his soul mate, the one he was linked to for eternity. They weren't just bound by blood and flesh, but by the very fabric of their souls weaved intricately together, as if their hearts were not two entities, but one, ripped apart and glued into separate bodies so that they could never be parted, not by distance, fame, fortune, foes, not even by hate or love. They were one being, a mirror of each other, sometimes foggy and cracked, but always returning to one overlapping reflection when all was said and done.

Bill was convinced Tom would return to him to accept the truth, but it would have to be in his own time. Tom could be stubborn and willful, but he wasn't stupid. He knew when to stop pushing or pulling away. He knew how many times he could say 'no' to Bill before the damage was irreversible.

So, Bill stayed on the couch, obstinately awaiting Tom's return, and refusing to move until his brother walked safely back through the door. The crazy bastard had walked right out the door without any shoes or shirt on, not even his wallet or phone in his pocket. Bill could only hope that Tom was all right.

Late in the afternoon, David called, requesting a conference call. Bill quietly replied that Tom was not home, sorry, it would have to wait for another day. He hung up as civilly as possible, when all he wanted to do was scream to be left alone. If it wasn't Tom on the other end of the line, or walking through the front door, he didn't want to see that person's fucking face.

Bill got up off the couch and stretched. His muscles were sore from sitting there so long, and he ached to be _doing something._ He hated feeling so helpless, especially when it came to Tom. He wanted to get his own keys and go driving to find Tom. Though the city was an endless web of streets and dark paths Tom could take, Bill was certain he could find his brother simply by following the faint echoes of Tom's heart speaking to his own.

Bill didn't believe in twin telepathy, or even feeling one another's pain, but he knew they had a distinct connection that had been abruptly and painfully disturbed over the past few days. The lingering pain was dissolving into a calm, Tom's relaxing mind and heart registering in Bill's consciousness. Sensing this change, Bill hoped Tom would return soon.

As the sun began to set, Bill carried Pumba to the window and drew the curtains back to watch bright colors of pink, purple, and blue streak behind the everlasting, golden glow of the descending sun. It was so bright Bill could hardly stand to look as the colors painted deeper and more vibrant all across the fading horizon. He felt tears smart in his eyes as he imagined Tom seeing the same glorious view, perhaps feeling the world slow, and begin to turn opposite on it's axis, just as Bill was.

It was quite dumb and clique'd to be crying over a sunset, but Bill was far too struck by the simplicity of it's beauty to not be moved. It was something the entire world could not touch; it could never break under a human's flawed fingertips or be disturbed by someone trying to make it better. It just was.

When the colors faded, escaping from the clouds like fleeing shadows, Bill felt his heart sink. The sun was gone, and so was the beauty . . . And Tom had still not returned.

It was quite early to be going to bed, but Bill retreated to his bedroom after making sure the dogs had been taken outside one last time and were curled up in their beds. He shut the door firmly behind himself and threw his body across the bed. He landed with a loud, sad sigh and curled up against the sheets. Bill pressed his face into the sheets, trying to locate the distinct scent of Tom, and calling to memory the last time they had been in the bed together.

They had been curled up together, quiet after passionate kissing and touching . . . A moment of silence after their storm.

_“Tom?”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“I've been thinking .. .”_

_“That's never a good thing. . .” There was a soft chuckle._

_Bill thrust his elbow half-heartedly into Tom's ribs, “Shut up, you. . .”_

_“Okay, okay . .. what's on your mind?”_

_“Us . . .” Bill murmured._

_He struggled for the words before turning over to look Tom straight in the eye._

_“I want to do it.” He said, firmly, “Really . . . really make love.”_

_A flicker of apprehension crossed Tom's eyes and his brow knitted. He rolled onto his back, severing the connection of their eyes and blew out a deep breath, “Bill, I don't know .. .”_

_“I know it's serious.” Bill said, reaching over to touch Tom's chest, “But I've never been so sure about anything in my life. Please?”_

_Tom glanced over at him, “I'm not making any promises, Bibi.”_

_“I don't expect you to . . .”_

_“Okay.” Tom shrugged, “Then soon.”_

_“Soon? Really?” Bill perked up, hardly containing the smile on his lips._

_Tom bit his lower lip and flushed pink, “Well, don't make it sound like Christmas. . .”_

_“Okay.” Bill calmed himself, and curled up tighter against Tom's side, “Soon. . .”_

Soon. That's what Tom had said.

Only a day later, Ria had stormed into the Cherrytree Record Company building, proclaiming to have witnessed their sins . . . threatening to tell the whole world. Tom had gotten scared, naturally, and that “soon” turned into “maybe never.”

Bill curled up tighter in the bed and pressed back hot tears. He'd been so close to getting what he had wanted for years . . . Only to have it ripped away by that bitch, Ria. Bill angrily swiped away an escaping tear and thought malevolently about doing something awful to Ria. It was rather childish, but he would rather blame the whole thing on her than admit Tom's fears were definitely founded. He just wanted what he wanted, and really hated life when he couldn't have it.

Bill didn't know how long he had lain there for, depressed about the situation, when he heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, though rather quietly, as if Tom were trying to be discreet.

He was given away by the yip of their dogs and the click of toenails across the linoleum.

Bill threw the covers back and darted out of the bed, whispering his brother's name anxiously. He could hear the low timber of Tom's voice, speaking in soothing tones to the dogs, probably telling them to get back to bed.

Bill threw his bedroom door open and raced down the hall. He hit the stairs running, nearly slipped in his stocking feet in his hurry. He reached the landing safely and turned the corner that led to the front door. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw Tom in the entryway, bent down to scratch Scotty's head.

“Tom!” He exclaimed, breathlessly, “You're back.”

Tom rose from the floor, his eyes wide and vulnerable. Bill rushed to him, throwing his arms tightly around Tom's neck. His brother's skin was cool and peppered with goosebumps from staying out so long without his shirt. Bill pressed his own body into the chilled flesh, practically feeling his body heat permeate Tom.

Tom stood still for a few moments before slowly lifting his arms to wrap them around Bill's waist.

Bill hugged Tom until he could sort through the mixed emotions that now filtered through his brain. He could hardly focus on any single thought that had gone through his head while Tom was gone until he could be completely certain that Tom was okay, that he was really here in Bill's arms. When he realized this wasn't a dream, he drew back sharply.

“Tom Kaulitz.” He began, sharply, “You scared me half to death.”

Tom lowered his head, “Sorry . . .”

“No, you don't get to say that.” Bill snapped, “You walked out that door hours ago, no phone, no wallet, no fucking shoes! What if something had happened? How would you have contacted me? What if you got pulled over without your license?”

“Can't you just be happy I'm here?” Tom demanded.

“I am happy.” Bill insisted, though his tone easily betrayed his anger and hurt, “But I want to hear you say you will never do that again.”

“I can't make any promises.” Tom replied, his voice soft and weary.

Bill paused as those words rang clear from the recent memory he had just relived in the bedroom. Here they were again, at a turning point.

Tom sighed and moved around Bill, “I'm getting a shower.”

“You know, David called.” Bill said to Tom's back as his brother walked away, “Way to support the band, Tom.”

Tom lifted his hand over his shoulder, showing Bill he was flipping him off.

Bill made a sound of disgust as Tom disappeared around the corner and into the bathroom. Shortly, the water began to run, and Bill could hear Samy D rapping loud and clear from the little speakers of Tom's phone.

“Fucking racket.” Bill muttered.

He wandered back upstairs feeling disappointed and disgusted with himself. He should have continued hugging Tom and accepting him back. Instead, he'd let his anger get the best of him and pushed Tom away. He was so fed up with the whole thing, he just wanted to say “fuck you” and walk away. But Bill Kaulitz did not walk away or give up, especially on Tom. There was always tomorrow to give it another try.

Bill stripped out of his clothes and crawled into bed in his boxers. Cuddling underneath the covers, he belatedly thought that he should have brought Pumba to bed with him if Tom wouldn't be sharing the bed tonight. He needed to feel like _someone_ still cared about his happiness. Maybe that was selfish; maybe he didn't care anymore.

Bill didn't fall asleep for a long time; his mind was too full and racing with worried, angry thoughts to get any rest. He listened to the shower water run until Tom got out and walked past Bill's door with heavy footsteps. Bill's ears tracked Tom's movement around the house after he got dressed and went back downstairs. He could hear Tom get into the fridge for something to eat and fearfully wondered if Tom hadn't eaten anything all day since Bill had thrown his lovely breakfast on the floor. Tom watched some TV downstairs, then came back up to the bedrooms. Bill frozen when he heard the doorknob of his bedroom door turn, quietly as if not to disturb Bill's sleep. Bill kept his eyes shut and tried to even out his breathing to mimic sleep. His ears strained to hear what Tom was doing, but all he could detect was Tom's breathing. At last, the door shut again and Tom went over to his own bedroom.

The house was quiet, and Bill finally fell asleep, too mentally exhausted from the day to keep his eyes open any longer.

 

~

 

It was much later, and the room was pitch black when Bill was jostled from sleep by movement on the bed next to him. He slowly blinked his eyes open, disoriented for a moment. Looking up, he could see the faint silhouette of Tom standing over him.

“Uhhh . . . wha . . .Tommm?” Bill mumbled, lifting a hand to reach for his brother.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Tom murmured and he climbed into the bed next to Bill.

“What are you doing?” Bill insisted, his voice quiet and scratchy from sleep.

He felt the warm, wet press of Tom's lips against his cheek and then a rush of hot breath as Tom spoke into his ear, “Couldn't sleep. Lay back down.”

Bill shivered, suddenly far more awake than he had been a few moments ago. He wriggled in Tom's grasp as Tom tried to keep him still so that they could spoon.

“Tom, don't crawl in bed with me and then say it's nothing. . .” He complained.

Tom's mouth lingered by his ear for a moment, then drifted back to leave wet kisses against the skin directly behind his lobe and then down his neck. The gentle touches sent an electrical current rippling beneath Bill's skin, shooting straight down for his crotch. He whined softly and pressed back against Tom's firm, warm body. He detected a soft, but building throb between Tom's legs, and his eyes widened.

“Tom, what . . .?”

“Would you hush?” Tom insisted, “Go to sleep.”

“I can't.” Bill asserted.

He squirmed out of Tom's grasp and rolled over so that he could face Tom. Their gazes met through the darkness of the room, and Bill's eyes slowly adjusted to make out the shape of Tom's face. He reached out and touched Tom's cheek.

“What's going on?”

“Nothin',” Tom lied, “Just can't sleep.”

“Mmm, twin deficit.” Bill chuckled softly.

“Right.” Tom scoffed, “Would you go to fucking sleep already?”

“Did you see the sunset?” Bill murmured.

Tom gazed back at him, his eyes growing serious, “Yeah. Nice, huh?”

“Beautiful, really.” Bill replied, softly, “I felt your heart slowing down.” He slid his hand down to press his palm against Tom's chest, “I hoped we were going to be okay.”

“We are.” Tom whispered, “I thought about what you said.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, a lot.” Tom admitted, “I didn't want to wake you up to talk about everything. . .”

“Wait.” Bill pushed himself up on his elbow, “There's something to talk about?”

Tom bit his lower lip and looked up at Bill, sheepishly, “Maybe . . .”

“Tell me.” Bill insisted, “What are you thinking, Tom?”

“Just . . .ahh. . .It's so hard to explain.” Tom sighed.

He reached out and pulled Bill into his arms, hugging him close. He pressed a kiss against Bill's crown, “Don't think this means anything yet, but . . . You're right. We should be willing to give up a few things if we care about each other so much.”

“Wait, are you saying-” Bill began, trying to sit up again.

Tom held him down and cut in, “I said, it doesn't mean anything yet. Would you shut up and listen?”

“Yes, I'm sorry.” Bill murmured, “Go on.”

“I was driving and I looked up and saw the sunset . . . and I thought of you. I knew you were probably at home waiting for me, and seeing the same thing. And that's when I realized you were right. No one should be able to tell us what to do or dictate how we feel about each other. And no one can ruin what we have either. It's not something that can be changed or broken by someone else. I figured, even if the whole world found out, I would still have you, right . . .?”

Tom's voice tapered off, and Bill could hear the emotion choking him. Bill felt his own eyes fill with tears as Tom whispered the very words that Bill's heart had secretly spoken up seeing the sunset.

“Tom, it's right.” Bill whispered, lifting his head, “ _We're_ right . . .”

With little hesitation, their mouths brushed together and then joined, pressing hard and hungry. Their lips caressed in greedy, loving strokes for several moments before Bill opened his mouth invitingly. Tom's tongue flicked forward a few times before gaining courage and pushing deeper into Bill's mouth. Bill thrust his own tongue forward, and they swirled together, trading saliva and needy groans. Bill's fingers crawled over Tom's chest, eagerly feeling out every inch of bare flesh and pulling himself over top Tom. He straddled Tom's legs and pressed their crotches together, moaning explosively when he felt their twin erections rub together hard. His body hummed with the contact, stirring to life more fevered throbs of racing blood beneath his flesh. He ground his hips down against Tom's, seeking satisfaction after two days of emptiness.

Their lips tore apart and Bill found himself gasping, “Tom. . .oh Tom. . . need you. . .”

Tom's hands cradled his face, and his eyes sparked with want. He lowered one hand to grip Bill's hip, guiding him down more rapidly. Their hard, aching cocks chafed together, hardly contained by their boxers, each wanting to burst free.

“Please . . .” Bill panted, his face twisting as the pleasure climbed higher inside his body, “Please, say yes. . . say something . . .”

Their eyes locked and Tom's gaze was determined. He pulled Bill's head back down to plant a firm kiss on his lips. When he let Bill's mouth up, he whispered roughly, “Get on your stomach.”

Bill's stomach twisted with need and he felt his crotch tighten almost painfully. He scrambled to get off of Tom and onto his stomach on the mattress. He stretched out across the sheets and arched his hips up to display himself submissive and eager, glancing anxiously over his shoulder to see what Tom would do.

Tom rose from the bed and plucked the lube from the drawer of the bedside table. He quickly stripped out of his boxers, allowing Bill to view the hard, thick length of his cock, standing up almost straight against his stomach. The flesh was flushed red and throbbing; his balls looked achingly full. Bill lusted to touch that hard, velvety soft flesh and reach down to fondle his balls until he spurted come everywhere.

Tom climbed back onto the bed, positioning himself between Bill's spread legs. Bill gasped in a breath when Tom grabbed a handful of his shorts and yanked them down hard. Bill bit back a cry as his cock snapped free of the material, and he was left naked and exposed. Tom discarded the boxers with a flick of his wrist and turned his scorching gaze back to Bill's quivering body. His hands grabbed onto Bill's thighs, firmly spreading him apart even wider than he had displayed himself. Bill grabbed onto handfuls of the sheets, muffled a moan into the back of his hand. Tom stretched his legs open so wide he could feel the strain in his muscles, the ache in his balls, but he wasn't going to complain now. He was about to get exactly what he had hoped for during his vigil on the couch.

“Now,” Tom whispered, huskily, “Stay just like this.”

Bill bit down on his lower lip as Tom's hands released him, and he was left standing on his own, his legs spread wide, his knees dug into the mattress to keep his ass up. He groaned quietly when he heard the cap of lube opening. He waited, his body tense and quivering until Tom had lube his fingers. The first touch was slightly cold from the lube, but Tom's fingers quickly rubbed against Bill's eager hole, creating delicious friction. His fingers moved in a quick, arousing circle, coaxing the muscles to relax before he pressed one fingertip against the opening. Bill tried and failed to breathe properly as Tom's finger pierced him, slicing back meager resistance and submerging in the tight, wet heat of Bill's ass. Bill groaned loudly, thrusting his hips back against the pressure of Tom's hand.

Behind him, Tom released a low groan of pleasure. He began to push his finger in and out at a slow pace that had Bill's muscles relaxing, but his body throbbing for more. He curled his fingers tight around the sheets and ground his hips back against Tom's hand. He whined something unintelligible into the pillow, and felt the last of his saliva dry up in the face of burning need.

Tom's hand moved a bit faster, pumping his finger in and out of the now lax opening. Bill squirmed, both writhing away from the torturous pleasure and grinding back against it with pounding lust.

“Please, Tom. . .” he rasped, too needy to consider begging below him.

Tom palmed his hip with his free hand and leaned closer, “You want all my fingers, baby?”

“Nghh. . . yes. . .oh God. . .” Bill moaned, nodding vigorously against the pillow.

His mouth stretched open, his body clamping down hard with pleasure when Tom paired a second finger with the first and delved them deep into Bill's hole. All the gentility and slowness of his earlier pleasure was gone, replaced by deep, eager thrusts that forced Bill's hole open wide. Bill writhed against the mattress, his lips moving wordlessly in white hot pleasure as Tom's fingers knifed into him, twisting each time to get to the deepest spot. Bill tried to breathe, tried to speak, but his throat was tied in his knots. All he could do was scramble against the mattress, trying vainly to escape how torturously good Tom's fingers felt slamming deep into his aching hole.

“Please . . .” He managed a pathetic whine.

Tom's fingers suddenly slowed and his fingers wrapped tight around Bill's hip, dragging him back into position, on his knees, face in the mattress. Bill grabbed at the sheets, feeling the smooth material slide from his grasp as Tom pulled his hips up and resumed his rapid finger-fucking.

Bill squealed and twisted in Tom's grasp, humping his hips back in weak, quivering movements. Tom added a third finger and Bill nearly screamed as he felt them stretching him open.

“Fuck . . .” Bill gasped, “Fuck . . . please. . .”

Tom reached down and grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up from the sheets while keeping him on his knees, back arched to keep his ass exposed. Tom pressed his fingers in deep and spoke straight into Bill's ear, “You like that, baby? You like getting your hole fucked?”

Bill gave a strangled groan, his body twitching and jerking involuntarily as Tom pressed his fingers in deep, then withdrew them to create a wet sound of release. Bill gasped and almost fell to the sheets as Tom let go of him to retrieve the lube once more. Bill quavered with his knees still somehow supporting him, wondering what else Tom would do to him tonight. He knew the need and desire had been building up inside Tom for years, and though some of the tension had already been released, the new realization that they could and _should_ be together was bound to bring more hidden desires to light.

Tom poured out more lube onto his fingers and pressed them back into Bill's sensitive flesh. Bill moaned and twisted as Tom's fingers slipped, one by one, back into the gaping space, until all four were submerged to the knuckle. They began to grind into him, back and forth, working him open at every angle, and at last, driving for the spot that would have Bill coming everywhere.

He was already rock hard, red and rigid between his spread thighs and practically dripping arousal with each touch. He wanted to reach down and grab himself, finish off the pleasure so readily racing through his veins, but he held off. He had been waiting for Tom accept their relationship for so long, he didn't want to rush through the night when it finally happened. He wanted to be with Tom like this forever, when their connection was so strong, it was almost visible and tangible.

Tom's fingers thrust in, slow and steady, searching out Bill's prostate with now eager, consistent strokes. Bill could only twitch and moan helplessly, drooling into the pillow as his body hummed like a live wire with pleasure. He could hardly move, every muscle rigid, suspended like a tight rope, just waiting for the orgasm to claim him at last. He could feel his inner muscles quivering sporadically around Tom's deeply inserted fingers, so close to coming it was torture. He needed just a few more strokes like Tom was delivering; he could feel it swelling up inside him, hot and inflamed, ticking like a time bomb.

“Tom . . .” Bill panted, breathlessly, insane with need, “Tom I. . . ahh . . . uhh . . . please . . .”

Tom's hand slid from his hip to his cock, eagerly complying with Bill's pleading, now on the verge of desperate sobbing. His long, warm fingers wrapped fully around the aching flesh and gave it a slow, firm pull, dragging out the first stroke as long as he could. Bill gasp, his heart flipping over on itself and stuttering in ragged, uneven beats. The pleasure swelled higher and he was almost seeing stars.

Tom's fist rose up to swallow the head, dragged back down, stretching foreskin.

Bill's hips rose higher, his muscles straining. He was sweating, panting, waiting for it to come.

The big, warm hand on his dick went back down, squeezed at the base before switching to a sudden, firm rhythm. Hard, fast, unrelenting.

With a strangled, almost understated groan, Bill came.

In that instant, his world exploded into white noise – all he could hear was his own ragged breathing and the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears. His body jerked hard, the spasms wracking his tightly strung insides over and over again. The pleasure screamed higher, tearing through his body like a vicious storm and raping sensitive flesh and straining muscles raw with the intensity. He was grasping at the sheets, trying to hold on while his body took the ride of it's life; it was like taking the plunge on a rollercoaster for the first time, seeing the ground at the bottom coming up to swallow you . . . and then realizing how gratifying it was the moment the adrenaline hit you.

Bill came up gasping for air, his body falling lifelessly to the mattress. He could feel hot, sticky cum on the sheets under his belly and the dampness of saliva on the pillow against his cheek. His body hummed with the aftershocks, and the rest of his senses began to reawaken. He suddenly realized how weak and trembling his muscles were, how drained he felt, how much his ass ached from the hard fingering.

He felt Tom's hands gently rolling him onto his back and slowly opened his eyes to see his brother hovering over him. Tom's gentle but calloused fingertips brushed up against his cheek, running through stubble before meeting the smooth skin of his cheekbone. Tom bent to drop a kiss on his forehead.

“You're beautiful when you come like that.” Tom murmured, his voice husky.

Bill bit his lower lip and felt a flush creep up his cheeks. He didn't have a response for that kind of remark.

Tom chuckled softly as Bill ducked his head to hide the blush. He slipped his fingers under Bill's chin and forced his brother to look up.

“Beautiful.” He repeated, so soft it was almost inaudible.

Bill gazed back into Tom's eyes, feeling his heart swell with an emotion he could hardly place or name. It was too strong for words, too wonderful to describe. He just knew this feeling was what it felt like to be with the right person – the only person.

Bill pressed himself closer to Tom, reaching down to touch Tom's hard, naked cock.

“I want this.” he whispered, allowing his eyelids to grow heavy with a lustful gaze.

Tom's eyes sparked and Bill felt a distinct throb go through his cock.

“I want this . . .” Bill said, his voice softer and less confident, “In me. . .”

A flicker of apprehension crossed Tom's eyes, but his cock only continued to grow in Bill's gentle, but unmoving grasp. He swallowed hard and reached up to restlessly stroke his fingers through Bill's hair.

“Bibi, I don't know. . .”

“You said soon.” Bill whispered, hopefully, “We're there, aren't we, Tom? I mean, really there. We know what we want.”

“This is serious, Bill.” Tom said, his eyes growing somber, “If we do this, there's no going back.”

“I don't want to go back.” Bill insisted.

“It means you're mine. Forever.” Tom continued, quieter this time, “. . .It might hurt.”

“I know it will.” Bill admitted, “But I don't care. I want us to be together. Really together.”

“We are together.”

“I want you to take my virginity, Tom.” Bill said, bluntly.

Tom's breath caught in his throat and he looked away. Even in the darkness, Bill could see Tom thinking hard, the wheels spinning behind his eyes. Tom never thought about something halfway; he over thought it, analyzed it, poked and prodded it, fucking kicked it to death until he was really sure about what he wanted to do. But Bill couldn't let him this time; he needed Tom to let go, and stop thinking for once in his goddamn life. Tom's over active analyzing was what had gotten them here in the first place.

“I want you to be the first one.” Bill continued, “The only one.”

Tom looked back over at Bill, his eyes a mixture of desire and concern, “God, I want to, Bill. I really want to . . .”

“But what?”

“But . . . I don't want to hurt you.” Tom worried, stroking insistently at Bill's cheek, “I would never hurt you on purpose.”

Bill could've argued that Tom already _had_ hurt him by refusing him so many times, but he was ready to put those horrible moments behind them. Instead, he reached out and returned Tom's caress on the cheek.

“You won't hurt me. Not if you go slow and are gentle.” Bill said, softly, “I know you can do that.”

Tom licked his lips and reached down to cradle Bill's hip. His thumb stroked across the triple star tattooed there, as if comforted by the familiarity of the long-established mark.

“I won't force you to do anything.” Bill said, softly, “But I promise you, this is what I want, and I'm willing to do anything for it. I've already given myself to you, Tom. Even if you don't take my virginity in the real way, you've already taken it . . . I'm yours.”

Tom's eyes raced back up to meet his. His gaze was stronger and more determined. He slid his fingers behind Bill's neck and pulled Bill in for a firm kiss. Their mouths joined hotly for several moments, trading caresses and quick, teasing flicks of tongue and saliva. When Tom pulled back, blowing hot breaths across Bill's cheeks, he whispered, “You are mine.”

Bill nodded, eagerly, “Yes.”

“Yes.” Tom echoed.

His mouth pressed down again, this time making it's way across Bill's cheekbone and down along his jawline. Bill moaned and lifting his chin as Tom nibbled and kissed his way down Bill's throat, tasting flesh and testing his rising pulse. Bill pressed closer, crushing his body up against Tom's. Tom's hands flowed down Bill's body, taking in each inch of smooth flesh and finding all the right curves. As palms pressed down harder as he reached Bill's lower back. His fingers curled downward, taking in the round little swells of Bill's ass cheeks and giving them a firm squeeze. Bill released a quiet squeak and arched forward against Tom's firm, hot body. He felt their erections graze, hot, aching flesh against flesh, chafing with lovely, burning friction. Bill thrust his hips eagerly into Tom's, running the sensitive head of his cock all along Tom's shaft, then crushing them together like conjoined twins.

Tom twisted suddenly, pushing Bill onto his back and rising over him. His body forced it's way between Bill's legs and he crowded Bill into the mattress, smothering him with hard, unrelenting kisses. Bill kissed back, hands groping over the rigid, muscled lines of Tom's body. He felt out each quiver and flex of muscle, marveling at the strength contained in Tom's body, taking pride in the fact that his man was sexier than any other creature on earth – at least in his eyes.

Tom reached up to cradle Bill's cheek as he leaned back for a breath. He was panting hard, his long, dark hair askew from it's ponytail.

“I want you.” He whispered, raggedly, “I can't stop myself, Bill. . .”

“Don't . . .” Bill replied, reaching up for Tom, “Don't stop.”

With a groan, Tom reached a long arm for the lube. His hands were quivering as he opened the little bottle and poured out the clear liquid onto his fingertips. He lowered his hand between them and Bill felt the cool, slick press of Tom's lubed fingers against his already sensitized hole. Bill arched and moaned. His body easily opened up to the invasion of Tom's fingers and he lapsed against the pillows, moaning in delight. Tom pumped his fingers more gently this time, stretching Bill open in the sweetest, most exquisite way. He didn't stop until three fingers were inside, eagerly gliding in and out and Bill was moaning for Tom to get inside him.

Tom picked up the lube again to cover himself, then paused, “Bill . . . should I get a condom?”

Bill opened his eyes, blinking in confusion for a moment. He had hardly thought of _that._

“Do you want me to . . .?” Tom's sentence faded and Bill could read the lust in his eyes.

Bill bit his lower lip, then shook his head, “No . . . No, let me feel you.”

“Should I pull out . . .?” Tom finished the sentence with lingering hope.

“You said I'm yours, right?” Bill whispered, blinking softly, “Then show me that I am. Come inside me, Tom.”

Tom swallowed hard; his dick twitched with desire. Just hearing those words brought swift mental images and fantasies he had long stored in his mind back to life.

Without further hesitation, Tom poured out lube onto his hand and quickly spread it over his cock. He was generous with the anointment, keeping in mind Bill's virginal state despite the numerous times he had fingered Bill in the past several days. He applied more to Bill's hole, then tossed the lube aside. He drew his hands up Bill's long, smooth thighs, dragging his twin's legs over his shoulders. Grasping Bill's hips, he brought their bodies into alignment.

Bill drew in a deep breath and let it out, trying to breathe with what felt like a noose squeezing his lungs. He was fucking nervous, but he wanted this moment more than anything. He was ready, so ready. He had been ready days ago, weeks ago, years ago . . .

Tom gazed down at him, “Good?”

Bill nodded, “Yes, Tom, I want you in me.”

Tom's fingers squeezed his hips and he pressed forward. Bill felt the hot, blunt tip of Tom's cock against his hole, then increasing pressure. He gasped, felt his body grow tense with the obtrusive and unaccustomed invasion. Tom was big, much bigger than his fingers though Bill hadn't expected to feel so much of a difference.

“Baby, baby . . .”

Bill heard Tom's voice breaking through the thick panic suddenly invading his mind. He forced his eyes open and looked up at Tom's reassuring expression.

“Relax, Bibi.”

Bill let out a slow breath and focused on relaxing each part of his body. He thought about the tip of Tom's cock inside him, and realized how good it felt.

“Do it. . .” He breathed.

Tom eased forward, his hands steady and protective on Bill's hips. Bill felt his cock slide in deeper and realized the entire head and some of the shaft was in him. God, it felt huge. . . It felt strange and wonderful all at the same time. With giddy excitement, he realized this moment was even better than he had imagined.

“Yes, Tom. . .” He groaned, urging his brother on.

Tom flexed his fingers around Bill's hips and kept the pressure slow, but steady, going deeper with each slowly passing second. Bill groaned, fighting back squeals of pain as a sharp ache went straight through his core. It felt like Tom was stabbing him with a knife instead of his cock, but Bill refused to let Tom know that. He reached down and grasped Tom's wrist, trying to pull him forward faster. Tom ignored Bill's eagerly scrabbling fingers and kept his pace steady, not too fast or sudden. Bill could feel the pressure growing, the pain mounting, bit by bit tearing away at his confidence.

“Ohh . . ohh . . .” The moans burst from his lips despite his clenched teeth.

Tom stopped altogether, “You okay?”

Bill opened his eyes, panting. He could feel tears stinging in his eyes, but he blinked hard, trying to dispel them. He nodded, “Don't stop. Please, don't . . .”

Tom thrust forward again and Bill nearly screamed. He clamped his mouth shut and felt every tendon strain as the pain burst forth inside his body, then suddenly faded into a low ache, muffled by the roar of pleasure inside his body.

His eyelids fluttered open. He was gasping for a breathe while Tom petted his cheek.

“It's okay. You're okay.” Tom whispered, “It's in.”

Bill swallowed convulsively, finding his mouth bone dry. His heart was pounding hard and his body thrummed in a rhythmic and rising beat. He could hardly believe he'd done it. His virginity was gone, placed in Tom's safe and loving hands.

“Tom, Tom. . .” He managed in weak, broken gasps.

“I'm right here, baby.”

“Tom, do it. . .” Bill looked up at Tom, searching for the loving gaze he knew he would find, hoping it would also be willing, “Make love to me.”

Tom's thumb stroked across his cheek, “I'm gonna make it good, baby. Really good.”

“Yes, yes please . . .”

Tom drew back and Bill felt the pressure decrease. Then, it came back down, like a hammer falling, and Tom was in him for the second time. He moved slowly, pumping his hips in gentle, shallow thrusts that opened Bill in easy, languid movements. Bill wanted to ask for more, but knew he couldn't take it. The creeping, loving thrusts Tom was giving him were already breaking him down to nothing but a panting, aroused mess.

Slowly, his body began to accept the intrusion. There was a dull ache, but any pain Bill might have experienced early was quickly overtaken by the pleasure Tom was lavishing on him. His body began to open up, taking more and more of Tom's cock with each moment that passed. It felt good, more than Bill could have every imagined. In all the scenarios his mind had created, none had manufactured this amazing, full, and connected feeling he was now experiencing. The moments he had fingered himself, or used a vibrating, but lifeless object to pleasure himself could not even compare to how Tom's cock felt, piercing him, taking him, making him Tom's. Nothing else could reach this level of intimacy, this level of wonderful, this level of love.

Bill's pried Tom's fingers away from one hip and he laced his fingers through them. Tom held on, pinning Bill's hand to the mattress with their fingers twined as he hastened his thrusts. The change in pace transitioned slow and subtle, until Bill realized Tom was taking him fully, connecting their bodies to the deepest point every time. He felt Tom's hips beginning to slap against ass, the soft, firm flesh of his balls hitting against his tailbone. His heart nearly burst with excitement as he realized they were doing it; they were actually doing it.

Bill's eyes slid open and he laid eyes on Tom's expression above him, marked with bliss and pleasure. His eyes were barely open and his mouth was lax with pleasure. His body worked in smooth, perfect thrusts against Bill; it was the most beautiful sight Bill had ever laid eyes on. Then, Tom looked down and met Bill's gaze and he whispered, “Oh baby. . . It's so . . . so good. . .” And Bill nearly swooned with excitement, pleasure, desire.

“Yes, Tom. . .” he groaned in response, “It's good. . .”

Tom leaned farther over him, pressing Bill's thighs down against his chest and thrusting in harder, deeper. Bill writhed and moaned, suddenly struck by pleasure that had been slowly building since the moment Tom had fully entered him. It rose up sharply, snaring his insides with hot, churning need, throbbing all through his core, through the muscles squeezing Tom's hard dick. He quivered involuntarily and moaned Tom's name. His fingers squeezed tighter around Tom's, digging his nails in. He was fully hard again and ready to come just as explosively as the first time.

Tom moaned above him. The sweat was clear on his brow despite the darkness. His face was etched with lust and concentration, and Bill knew he would never find someone better than his Tomi. It simply wasn't possible when Tom was making love to him like this – it was like . . . like perfection.

“Oh, baby,” Tom panted, leaning back. He cradled Bill's thigh against his chest and turned his head to kiss one knee, “Baby, I'm gonna come.”

Bill squeezed Tom's hand, “Come in me . . .”

Tom's hips pressed eagerly against Bill's ass and Bill could sense the tension of climax rolling off of Tom's body. Tom closed his eyes and performed only a few more ragged thrusts before his body seized. Bill gasped as Tom's cock jerked inside him, swelling and spurting hot, sticky cum. His hips rocketed uncontrollably against Bill as the pleasure wracked his body, ripping several long, low moans from his lips. Bill could hardly breathe as he felt the hot wash of release filling him completely and dripping out as Tom's cock pumped the excess onto his ass and thighs.

At last, Tom pulled out and let Bill's legs down from his shoulders. He sank down against Bill's chest, breathing hard, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. His fingers stayed tightly wrapped around Bill's, as if they were the only things securing him to this world.

Bill stroked his hair and bent his head to kiss Tom's crown, “That was amazing, Tomi. . .”

Tom pressed his cheek hard against Bill's chest, “Yes, it was . . .thank you . . .”

They lay wrapped in post-coital bliss for several moments before Tom lifted his head. He gazed down at Bill's still hard cock and Bill could see the disappointment in his eyes, “You didn't come . . .”

Bill shrugged, “Lay your sexy lips on him and I will.”

“But you didn't-”

“Shush.” Bill lifted a finger to press it again Tom's mouth, “It was perfect.”

Tom pursed his lips, “If you say so.”

“It was.” Bill insisted, “It was better than anything I ever imagined. I couldn't trade that for having a million orgasms.”

Tom bit back a smile, “Maybe you over-exaggerate.”

“Maybe I'm right.” Bill murmured.

“Okay.” Tom narrowed his eyes. Then he reached down to touch Bill's cock gently, “Now, about this . . .”

Before Bill could say another word, Tom ducked his head and Bill was suddenly submerged in the wet, velvet heat of Tom's mouth. Tom sucked him down fast and ardent, forming a tight seal with his lips and bobbing his head over the swollen flesh. Bill's hands flew downward to claim Tom's hair, pulling and guiding his head while he tried not to thrust his hips too hard against Tom's mouth. As he had predicted, it took little time for him to climax again. His release burst forth in hot, fervent streams, dousing Tom's tongue and coating his lips with the milky white fluid. Tom hardly paused before swallowing, and Bill sank into absolutely relaxed bliss.

Tom crawled up next to him and they wrapped themselves in each other's embrace. Bill pressed his face into Tom's chest and fell asleep with more peace in his heart than he experienced in years, and happy with the knowledge that he and Tom were finally together; how they should be, how they always should have been.

They had a long road ahead of them; a journey that contained lying, some difficult explanations, and maybe even more painful fights. But Bill was willing to go on with this fight for as long as it took them to be happy, for them to once again find this place that was unbreakable by human touch, too beautiful to describe, that _just was._ The truth could be scary, but ultimately, it had set them free. And Bill did . . . He felt free; for the first time in years, he really felt free.

 

The end

 


End file.
